24 Day One
by LMCofTIC
Summary: My name is Jeff Tracy, and this is the longest day of my life.
1. Hour One

**24**

_By LMC_

_(Originally published 3 years ago...it has not been altered in any way.)_

As you may or may not know, there is a television show in the United States called _24_. The premise of this show was that the entire season was actually one full 24-hour day, with each episode being one hour of that day. It therefore took 24 weeks for us to witness one day in the leading man's life.

I have taken that concept and applied to the world of _Thunderbirds_. If you are unfamiliar with _24_, don't worry...it's an easy concept to pick up. If you are familiar with it, I can only hope this piece of writing does it...and _Thunderbirds_...justice.

Acknowledgements 

I must give high praise to an excellent beta I have acquired -- Rosie. She is invaluable.

I must also thank my left arm, Sandy. She is so good, and is always there for me when I need her.

And last but not least, my right arm, Sam, who should really get co-authoring credit for several portions of this story. Her insight, brilliance and willingness to help are a constant source of encouragement and enlightenment.

This is dedicated to those who live on Tracy Island. They are, after all, what it's all about.

I invite you into the world of _24_...

* * *

_"It is the year 2035. Someone has obliterated Washington, D.C. and is threatening to do the same to Southern California. My sons' lives are in danger. And International Rescue's security has been compromised. _

_"My name is Jeff Tracy, and this is the longest day of my life."_

**Hour One**

_The following takes place between 12:00 a.m. and 1:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

12:00:45

Jeff woke slowly, his mind still foggy from the dream he'd been having. A dream about Lucy. He glanced at the clock. Midnight. Why was he waking up at midnight? He heard a sound and suddenly knew why. The klaxon. Somewhere, International Rescue was needed.

Without hesitation, Jeff jumped out of bed and ran into the Lounge, where the eyes of his middle son John's video portrait were flashing in time with the rescue siren. He flipped the com line open. "International Rescue here. Go ahead, John." Jeff was taken aback by the look on his face as the live transmittal began. "Son?" he asked, brow furrowed. "What is it?"

"Dad," John choked out. "Turn on the television."

He stared into his son's eyes, in which he could see tears forming. Dread filling his heart, he reached over and flicked on the TV near his desk. It was already tuned to the World News Network. What he saw was unimaginable.

_"...all that is left of Washington, D.C., capital of the United States of America. Less than ten minutes ago, the entire city was brought to ruins by forces as yet unknown. At this point, it isn't even clear how the destruction was caused, but there isn't a single building left standing in the sixty-one square mile radius that was once the seat of the U.S. government. We do not yet have any information as to the well being of President Grable, nor of any other members of the Executive, Judicial or Legislative branches of this government. Stay tuned to WNN as we bring you up-to-the-minute coverage of this terrible, terrible disaster."_

Jeff's mouth opened, but no sound emerged. He snapped his mouth shut and turned as his eldest son Scott, second son Virgil and youngest son Alan entered the room, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Kyrano, Jeff's old friend and caretaker of Tracy Island, his daughter Tin-Tin and Jeff's mother Ruth soon followed. The last to arrive was Brains, Chief Engineer for International Rescue, who looked as though he'd been awake for quite some time. The only one not present was his second-to-youngest son Gordon, who was away on a much-needed vacation.

Everyone knew by the looks on Jeff and John's faces that something horrific had occurred.

"Father?" Scott said as he approached his dad's stately wooden desk.

Jeff sank into his chair, his face a mixture of disbelief and anger.

"What is it, Dad?" Virgil asked as he and the others gathered 'round.

Scott's eyes roamed to the television, which carried no sound save that of a helijet engine whining. He moved behind his father as his brain, now fully alert, processed the devastation it was seeing on the screen. "My God," he whispered. "Where _is_ this?"

Just then, the word _LIVE_ appeared in the upper left corner of the screen. A line of words at the bottom that read _WASHINGTON, D.C., U.S.A._ soon joined it.

"What?" Alan asked, moving forward. "D.C.? You've gotta be kidding!"

"What's happened, Mr. Tracy?" Tin-Tin asked.

Jeff took a deep breath before tearing his eyes from the television. He looked at each of them in turn...his sons, his friends. His loved ones. "It seems," he began, and then stopped to clear the frog in his throat. "According to WNN, Washington, D.C. has been...destroyed."

12:11:52

"It makes sense for us to go. We don't know how many people might be trapped in all that rubble," Scott said to the group gathered in the Lounge. The initial shock had morphed into International Rescue's traditional response to any disaster, no matter what the scale: Let's get out there and help them!

"I agree, son. We don't have a large complement, but we _do_ have equipment they don't. I want you out there on the double."

"Yes, Sir!" Scott saluted as he headed for the revolving wall.

Before he could even touch the two light fixtures, Jeff had continued his train of thought. "Virgil, Alan, I want you to take Thunderbird 2. Load as much heavy rescue gear into her belly as you can."

"Sure wish Gordo was here. We could really use the extra pair of hands," Alan observed as Virgil headed for the floor-to-ceiling painting of the rocket ship that had once taken his father to the Moon.

"Mr. Tracy," Brains spoke, "I-I believe I might be of some a-assistance in Gordon's absence."

"All right, then, Brains. In the meantime, Tin-Tin, I want you out to New Zealand to pick Gordon up and ferry him to the scene."

"F.A.B.," Tin-Tin replied, scurrying off to her room to change clothes.

"I'll make some coffee," Ruth offered as Brains and Alan headed for the passenger elevator just outside the Lounge.

"Thanks, Mother. John," Jeff said to his son's live feed on the wall, "I want you to keep your ear to the ground up there. Relay anything and everything you pick up. At this point, we know nothing. We have no idea what we're getting into out there."

"F.A.B., Father. I'll be in touch."

"What can I do, Sir?"

"Kyrano, what you can do is get hold of Penny. We'll need all her contacts and resources to help us on this one." He thought for a moment before continuing. "Have her and Parker go as far as L.A., then check in. By the time they arrive, we should know more. In the meantime, I'm going to start on my contact list and see what I can come up with."

"Yes, Sir," Kyrano nodded as he headed for his suite.

Jeff sat down in his desk chair, from which he'd risen while giving his orders. He ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair and suddenly felt much older than his sixty-five years. He pulled up a special contact file from its hidden directory within his microcomputer and sat staring at the screen for several long moments.

"How could this have happened?" he wondered aloud. "Who on earth would want to kill all those people?"

12:22:02

"International Rescue England. Lady Penelope speaking."

"Hello, Lady Penelope. My apologies for waking you. This is Kyrano."

"Kyrano, dear, how wonderful to hear from you! To what do I owe this great pleasure?"

His face expressionless as always, Kyrano relayed the news of Washington D.C.'s destruction.

"Oh, my!" she breathed, hand upon her chest. "I'm afraid I've just returned home. I haven't yet seen the telecasts. What can I do to help?"

"Mr. Tracy requests your assistance in the form of your contacts and resources, as well as your presence in Los Angeles."

"Thank you, Kyrano; I know just what to do. In the meantime, please inform Jeff that Parker and I shall catch the next Fireflash and arrive in the States as quickly as we can."

"I will do so. Thank you."

"Thank _you_, Kyrano. Lady Penelope out."

Penelope Creighton-Ward, International Rescue's top agent, rose to her feet. She shook her head as she reflected upon what Kyrano had told her. "I can't believe someone would do this. I must begin calling my associates at once. But first..."

She reached over to the control panel on the wall next to her bedroom door and pressed the button marked _Parker_. It took a few moments for her butler's face to appear on the small video screen.

"Y-Yes, m'lady?" he yawned unceremoniously.

Penny stifled a smile. "Parker, pack our bags at once. Something terrible has happened in the United States, and we're needed. We'll be taking FAB One on the Fireflash to Los Angeles, be sure to make the proper arrangements immediately."

"Yes, madam, H'I'll ge' on h'it, straight h'away. Will you require h'anythin' h'else?"

"No, Parker, that will do for the moment. I must busy myself with some phone calls. Please inform me as to the time our flight will leave."

"Will do, m'lady."

Penny walked across the room to an ornate video telephone that sat upon a lovely white antique table against the far wall. She seated herself in front of it and pulled up a secret contact list on the microcomputer to its left. Sighing, she began dialing the first number.

"Well, here we go," she said to herself. "A _most_ unpleasant task."

12:31:12

Jeff ended his final call. No one had been able to give him anything at all on the disaster. His face looked grimmer than ever as Ruth returned with his second cup of coffee.

"You all right, son?"

"No, Mother, I'm not. Some maniac has destroyed an entire city, most likely killing tens of thousands of people. And I've sent most of my family out there when we have no idea what they'll try next."

"I know, Jeff. I'm worried about the boys, too. But they're good at what they do. They'll be careful. You know that."

"It doesn't matter _how_ careful they are. The people of Washington, D.C. probably had no warning at all when whatever hit, hit. And just prior to 8 a.m. their time, too. The city was probably teeming with workaday folk."

Ruth patted her son's hand gently. "I know, son. I know. We'll get through this like we've gotten through everything else. Try not to worry."

"Easier said than done." Just then, John's signal came through. "Go ahead, John."

"Father, I've been monitoring the emergency U.S. Government lines."

"What've you come up with?"

"Bad news, I'm afraid. At this point, they don't seem to think _anyone_ in the White House survived the attack, but no one can get in there to confirm."

Jeff closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. His mother's strong hand upon his shoulder strengthened his resolve, and he reopened his eyes. "You said attack. Do they know for sure what happened?"

"Not a lot of details as yet. There are some reports from survivors and those just outside the city limits saying the night sky lit up almost like day. Said it looked like thousands of little meteors falling to Earth. When they hit, things just started blowing up."

"Thousands of little meteors?" Ruth repeated.

"That's strange. John, relay that to Brains on Thunderbird 2. I want his take on it. Get him any photos or data you can."

"F.A.B.," he replied as his feed winked out.

Kyrano entered the room and crossed to Jeff's desk. "I have spoken with Lady Penelope," he reported. "She is contacting her resources as we speak. She and Parker will be leaving England as soon as possible."

"All right, thank you, Kyrano."

"How else may I be of assistance, Sir?"

Jeff sighed. "If you don't mind staying glued to the television for a bit, I'd like you and Mother to monitor two different networks, just to make sure we stay on top of any developments. John can't possibly catch everything up there all by himself. In the meantime, I'm going to take a shower." He checked the clock on the wall to the left of his desk as he rose to his feet. "I should have plenty of time before Scott calls in. If he does before I'm finished, notify me immediately."

"All right, Jeff," Ruth replied, seating herself in her son's vacated chair.

"Yes, Mr. Tracy," Kyrano nodded. He walked down the hall, past the passenger elevator and into a small adjacent room, a den of sorts. He flipped on the television and turned to NTBS, where he found their top reporter, Ned Cook, in the city of Los Angeles covering the disaster remotely. He pulled a pillow from the overstuffed couch and placed it on the floor in front of the TV. He then sat cross-legged upon it, folded his hands and began to watch the most shocking event in his lifetime unfold.

12:42:51

Ruth looked away from the television as John's signal came through. She opened the channel and her grandson's Nordic features filled his video screen. He reminded her so much of his grandfather that she couldn't help but smile. "Hello, John."

"Hi, Grandma. Where's Dad?"

"He's off to shower and dress. Is there any news?"

"Not too much. I've been on with Brains. I'm transmitting a bit of data I've picked up to Thunderbird 2 now. I also wanted to let Dad know that I activated the Emergency Network signal. I've received replies from all but ten of International Rescue's agents saying they're on their way to D.C. to see what they can do. I should be hearing from the others any time now."

"It's amazing what good people we have in this organization."

"Sure is." John's face fell as he contemplated his next statement. "I can't get in touch with Agent 14."

"Where's that one?"

"He's our man in D.C."

Ruth's eyes looked away as she realized what John was telling her. "Oh," she said softly. "Keep trying, John. I imagine communications are all but gone over that way. Maybe he just can't get through." As much as she hoped her words were true, Ruth Tracy was nothing if not a realist. She knew as well as John did that Agent 14 might not have survived. "In the meantime," she said, forcing a smile, "I'll let Jeff know the latest."

"Thanks, Grandma. I'll talk to you soon."

"Right, John," she replied before closing the channel.

12:50:02

Ruth had just finished briefing Jeff on the latest news from Thunderbird 5 when Kyrano entered the room. "Mr. Tracy? I think I may have some news for you."

"What is it, Kyrano?"

"Ned Cook has reported that a party is claiming responsibility for the attack upon Washington, D.C." "Really?" Ruth asked. "Who is it? Terrorists?"

"They are not certain, Mrs. Tracy. They say their headquarters received a voice-only video telephone transmission from a man calling himself Acronym."

"Acronym?" Jeff repeated. "What group is he with?"

"He has not claimed to be part of any group, Sir. He said that he and he alone is responsible for the destruction of Washington, D.C."

"And he didn't say why?"

"No. However, he has made a new threat."

Ruth frowned. "On what?"

"Southern California. The man said that if things did not happen as he wished, he would do to all of Southern California what he did to Washington."

"My God!" Jeff exclaimed. "What is it he wants to happen?"

"He would not say. He told them that the one he wished it from would know soon enough."

"What kind of madman is this?" Ruth pondered as she lowered herself onto the settee in front of her son's desk.

"The worst kind, Mother. Apparently he doesn't care how many people he kills for his own sick agenda. I just wish we could find out more. Hopefully Penny will have something for us soon."

The vidphone behind Jeff's desk chimed. Now seated in his chair, he turned and answered it. Voice Only was selected. "This is Jeff Tracy."

"I know who you are," a sinister voice replied.

"Who is this?"

"You may call me...Acronym."

Ruth gasped as Jeff turned to look first at her, then at Kyrano. His face paled as he spoke. "You're the one responsible for what happened to Washington."

The man chuckled. "Ah, your information network is sophisticated. And fast. But then again, one would not expect less from the man in charge of...International Rescue."

Jeff's mouth went dry. He tried to swallow, but found he hadn't a drop of spit. He'd answered the phone with his first and last name...and this man; this Acronym...had called him the head of International Rescue.

"I'm sorry, Sir, what did you say?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"You heard me, Tracy. Don't play games with me. I know exactly who you are and what you do for a living. I also know that your five sons, strapping young men that they are, staff International Rescue for you."

Jeff muted the phone and turned to the others. He was at a complete loss for words.

"Is it that Hood character?" Ruth asked, coming to stand by her son's side.

"No, it doesn't sound like his voice," Jeff replied.

"I do not believe it is he," Kyrano added.

"Come now, Mr. Tracy," the voice sneered from the phone speaker. "Nothing to say? Don't you even want to know why I've called? Really, I would expect better manners."

Jeff restored the voice pickup and replied, "I'm still here."

"Very well. I imagine that if you know I am behind the destruction of the United States capital city, you are also aware of my plans for Southern California."

"Yes, I am. What is it you want?"

"Oh, something very simple, my friend. And something only _you_ can provide."

"What would that be?"

"I want you to reveal your identities to the world."

Jeff's mind was reeling. _This can't be happening,_ he thought over and over again. _This just can't be happening._ He struggled to keep himself on an even keel as he felt Kyrano's hand upon his right shoulder. "Why would you want that?"

"You're so smart, Mr. Billionaire-In-Charge-Of-International-Rescue. You figure it out."

"What if your demands are not met?"

"Then Southern California shall suffer the same fate as Washington, D.C."

Jeff rubbed his chin, his mind racing. What was he going to do? What on Earth _could_ he do?

"Oh, and there's one more thing, Jefferson."

Jeff started at the use of his full first name.

"Just to make sure it's a little more personal, I've, uh, taken the liberty of acquainting myself with one of those perfect sons of yours."

Jumping to his feet, Jeff looked wildly at Kyrano and Ruth. "What are you talking about?" he asked in a near-whisper.

"Well, it seems that International Rescue can get along fine without one of its operatives. I believe your fourth son, Gordon, was on a camping trip in the New Zealand wilderness."

Jeff's legs buckled and he nearly fell to the floor. Kyrano and Ruth each caught a side of him and lowered him back into the chair. Tears appeared in all three pairs of eyes.

"What have you done to my son?" he choked.

Acronym laughed. "I knew that would get your attention. I've done nothing much to him as yet. He's still in one piece. But I can tell you this: if you have not revealed your true identities to the world by midnight tonight, two things are going to happen. First, the southern half of California as you know it will cease to exist."

"And second?"

"Gordon Tracy...will die."

12:59:58

12:59:59

01:00:00


	2. Hour Two

**Hour Two**

_The following takes place between 1:00 a.m. and 2:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

01:00:15

Jeff could only stare at the vidphone behind his desk as Acronym severed the connection. Words would not come. He felt Kyrano's hand upon his right shoulder, Ruth's upon his left. He felt them, yet felt nothing. Stone cold. Just like...just like when he'd been told his beloved wife Lucille had died. Thinking of her, thinking of the day she'd given birth to their son Alan...a day that should've been full of joy. A day that turned into the most hellish day of his life.

He closed his eyes as the memories flooded back to him. The helplessness. Just like now. Having to face his sons to tell them the news. Just like now. Not knowing where to go or what to do. Just like now. His world started crumbling again. The feelings he had shut off began returning in a torrent. He couldn't break down. Not again. He just couldn't. Rising to his feet, he vaguely felt his loved ones' hands slip from his shoulders.

"Jeff? Where are you going?"

Lost in thought, he didn't reply as he wandered out onto the balcony. Ruth and Kyrano could only watch in sadness and concern.

"Kyrano--"

"I will inform the boys," he interrupted.

A notification sound bleeped, and the two turned to find the eyes of Scott's video portrait lighting up in time to it. Kyrano moved behind the desk and opened up the line. "This is International Rescue," he said.

"Kyrano? Where's Dad?" Kyrano glanced toward the balcony, where he saw Jeff leaning against the railing. Scott knew him well enough to know something was up. "Tell me," he said simply.

"Scott, I am afraid I have grave news for you and your brothers. I would prefer to speak to all of you at the same time, so as not to repeat this any more than necessary."

"I'll hold on the line while you get Thunderbirds 2 and 5."

Scott fidgeted in his seat as he waited impatiently for Kyrano to reach his brothers. He heard Tin-Tin ring in on the communications console behind his father's desk.

"This is Ladybird calling Tracy Island. Come in, Tracy Island."

Ruth turned and answered the call. "We're here, Tin-Tin."

"Mrs. Tracy, something must be wrong with Ladybird."

"Why do you say that, dear?"

"Well, the GPS isn't picking anyone up where Gordon is supposed to be. I've searched a ten-mile radius, but there isn't anything except wildlife showing up on the thermal imager."

Ruth frowned as she replied, "Tin-Tin, please hold the line for a moment. Your father must tell you and the boys something. Ah, Kyrano's just gotten them all together."

"Hello, everyone," Kyrano began, seating himself in Jeff Tracy's chair. "I wished to tell all of you this at once, to avoid having to repeat myself."

"Come on, Kyrano, out with it! Does it have something to do with why Tin-Tin can't find Gordon?" Scott asked.

"What do you mean she can't find Gordon?" Alan nearly bellowed from his vid portrait.

Kyrano proceeded to relate the report by Ned Cook about Acronym's statements regarding Washington, D.C. and Southern California. He then came to the call Jeff had received from this Acronym and relayed the entire conversation.

"This man made it very clear that if your father does not reveal your identities to the world, Southern California will be destroyed and--" For the first time any of them had ever seen, Kyrano momentarily lost his cool composure. "And Gordon will be killed," he finally finished.

01:17:00

They all began talking at once. The Lounge was a mass of angry and frightened voices as the brothers and Tin-Tin contemplated their options. The men had all but decided to turn their air craft right around to begin searching for Gordon when their father, looking pale and drawn, entered the Lounge. Everyone fell silent as tension hung heavy in the air.

Ruth approached her son and placed an arm around his back. Jeff just stood in the middle of the room looking at each of the live feeds in turn. Scott. His eldest. Scott was the one who'd held the Tracy family together after Lucy's death. He'd been there when Alan was born. He'd been the rock of the family, its strength until Jeff had at last come back to himself. And now he was the one who held the family together out there, wherever International Rescue took them.

Virgil. Strong, brave and Scott's right arm. Of all his sons, Virgil seemed to have the biggest heart. He cared about everyone and everything. He took care of anyone with the tenderness of Lucille, yet never balked at putting his life in danger when the situation demanded. And he took care of Scott. After so many years of no one doing so, Virgil had taken upon himself the role of Scott's caretaker, something Jeff knew very well his eldest needed. Badly, at times. Virgil was the even keel that kept the family on its course.

Standing directly behind Virgil was Brains. Brains. Such a funny thing to call a man. And yet, there truly was nothing else to call him. Oh, sure, they could've called him by the name he'd been given back when he'd been found as a baby, but Brains had made it clear he preferred the childhood nickname over some false first and last names that held little meaning for him. His genius was unrivaled, his tenacity and courage matching those of the family he now found himself a part of. In the direst situations, Brains always seemed to be able to come up with some way to save the day. He was almost like...a sixth son.

John. John was graceful and intuitive, having fallen in love with the stars at an early age. He would spend hours peering through the telescope as a child, or talking with Jeff about space exploration and traveling to the Moon. Lucille had spent many hours with John, reading to him, encouraging his love of space and the stars, singing to him. Quick-witted and practical, he was an accomplished author and observer of the heavens. Being the middle child, John often found himself somewhat of an outcast while Virgil and Scott would go off and do one thing, and Gordon and Alan would go off and do another. But he was always the calm in whatever storm was thrown their way. Just like he would be now.

Jeff's heart sank as his eyes skimmed over the still video capture of Gordon that sat smiling lifelessly where his live son's face should have been. He came to Alan, whose mouth hung open slightly. Alan, the baby of the family. The one who could annoy each and every one of them with little or no effort whatsoever, yet also the one who was so endearing you just couldn't stay mad at him for long. Alan, who idolized his three oldest brothers and had always tagged after Gordon with such admiration and devotion, both of which continued to this day. Of all those in the family, Jeff knew Alan would be hardest hit if something happened...if something went wrong...

And then he thought of Gordon. Of how Gordon had almost died in the hydrofoil accident. Of how the doctors had told him his son wouldn't last through the night. Jeff had seated himself at Gordon's bedside and told him in no uncertain terms that he _would_ survive. _Even if he does,_ the doctors said, _he'll never walk again._ So Jeff had declared to Gordon, lying there so helplessly in the hospital bed, that yes, he _would_ walk again.

And he had. Gordon had survived. Gordon had walked. And Gordon was now a fully functioning operative of International Rescue. Surely Fate wouldn't allow such a miracle, only to have him lose his life in some madman's senseless game.

Or would she?

_Not if I have anything to do with it._

Jeff's back straightened. Eyes full of fire, he looked once more at his sons, who stared back at him from the wall. "That'll be enough of that now, boys," he said, speaking to himself as well.

"But Father, we have to find Gordon!" Alan said vehemently.

"We _will_, Alan. We will. But right now you have thousands of lives to save. That is what we're sworn to do. So get out there and do it! _I_ will see to Gordon's safety."

"But Father--"

"No _buts_, Scott!" Jeff barked. "You do what you need to do. We'll do the same."

"How are you gonna find him if Tin-Tin can't?" Virgil asked.

Jeff's reply was interrupted by Tin-Tin's frantic voice coming over the console. "Aircraft coming at me!"

"What?" Jeff roared.

"Help! I'm under attack! I'm under attack!" she screamed.

Then the line went dead.

01:27:03

Gordon woke to find himself curled up on a cold metal floor. He opened his eyes, but there was no light shining wherever he was. His back ached like nothing, and he rose to his feet, stretching left and right, trying to ease the pain. "Hello?" he called out.

His voice seemed to fade before it was even out of his mouth. "Where am I?" he wondered aloud. Taking baby steps, and holding his arms outstretched, he began walking around. Before long he found a metal wall. He followed it to a rounded corner, and then felt along the next wall. He came to a second corner, and halfway along the new wall he felt a doorframe. He soon located the latch, but found it locked. He resumed his travels until at last he'd been around once more and was back to the door again.

"Hello!" he yelled as he began pounding on the door. "Hello! Can anyone hear me?"

He banged and banged, but to no avail. It seemed that wherever he was, he wasn't going to be leaving anytime soon. He clapped his hand to his left wrist, but found it bare. His communicator watch was gone. Crawling around on his hands and knees, he searched the floor hoping to locate the watch, his knapsack, or any of his other belongings.

But that search proved fruitless. There wasn't anything in this room but Gordon himself. Returning to the door, he leaned his back against it and slid down until he was resting on the floor. How had he gotten here? What had happened? He closed his eyes as he tried to recall.

He'd been having a fine time of it in the wilderness. He'd chosen the most remote spot he could find in New Zealand: Fiordland National Park. Prior to this excursion, he hadn't had a vacation in almost two years. What he'd wanted was peace, quiet and Nature. He'd found it, and had spent two days hiking through the woods admiring all that Creation had to offer, basking in the solitude and silence of his own thoughts.

At night he would build a fire and just sit watching the flames dance before his eyes. He'd set up his one-man tent, strip naked and slide into the electric sleeping bag, where he'd stay warm and cozy during the night. He'd seen almost every type of animal known to man, flora and fauna unrivaled by any modern city.

The birds had seemed to be singing just to him as he'd made his way up over hills and down through valleys. He would stop whenever he tired, or when his back would begin to hurt, and then continue at his leisure. There were no klaxons. There were no situations of peril or imminent danger. There were no lives to be saved, no brothers to watch out for. There was no one but Gordon.

By the middle of the second day, he'd finally begun to unwind and relax, starting to feel refreshed and more like his old self. His sense of humor had been dormant for some time thanks to exhaustion and near burnout. But now he'd even started cracking jokes to himself.

And then, while he'd been sleeping on the second night, he remembered being awakened by voices. Surprised to hear humans so close, he'd rushed to pull on his jeans and heavy gray sweatshirt. He'd just put on his socks and hiking boots when someone had ripped open the side of his tent with a knife. Yanking his own knife out of his bag, he'd asked, "What do you want?"

Four burly men ripped the tent open and brandished laser rifles at him. Ordering him to drop his knife, they approached him and he felt his stomach drop. One of them hit him. Hard. And then his world had gone black.

Gordon now rubbed the back of his skull and found a lovely walnut-sized knot at its base. Yes, he'd been hit but good, and knocked unconscious. No wonder his head hurt so terribly. He wondered how long he'd been in this place. And where was he? Then it dawned on him. That funny feeling he'd had since waking up.

He was underwater. He knew it as sure as he knew his own name.

But the biggest question was why. Why had he been captured and brought to this place? What on Earth could they want?

01:39:15

Tin-Tin fought the controls of Ladybird, but they were sluggish and unresponsive. That shot to the rear of the small airplane had most likely taken out her elevator control and flaps, not to mention her hydraulics. She tried to raise Tracy Island, but the radio had gone dead. She barely had time to activate her com watch's GPS beacon before the tops of tall pines began scraping the belly of the plane.

"Oh, no," she whispered. "Gotta keep her level. Gotta...keep...her...level..."

She was vaguely aware of another aircraft zooming over her as Ladybird began falling apart. The trees tugged at the steel, twisting creaks and groans filling her ears. "Hold it together, woman," she said, bracing for impact. "Hold it together."

A calm, loving feeling seemed to wash over her and she smiled...she actually smiled. "Father," she whispered.

Tin-Tin lurched violently in the seat as the plane's wings collapsed and the rear fuselage ripped off behind her. Her smile disappeared and fear gripped her heart. The cockpit windows shattered, showering her with bits of glass. She covered her face with her hands and held herself as steady as possible. The blood rushing through her ears mixed with the unmistakable roar of a crashing airplane. Ladybird took one last bounce into the air before diving headfirst into the forest.

Her last conscious thoughts were of Alan.

01:42:41

Kyrano's face had gone pale as soon as his daughter announced she was under attack. His mind reached out to her and he sensed her terror. For endless minutes you could have heard a pin drop as everyone watched him, waiting to hear what he was picking up from Tin-Tin.

At last he spoke, tears streaming down his weathered face. "She is terrified," he whispered. "She is crashing."

"Tin-Tin!" Alan yelled, practically jumping through the video screen.

"Father," Scott broke in. "I have arrived at Danger Zone. Dear God. It's gone. The entire city. It's gone. What do I do, Father? Should I land?"

"No!" Alan cried. "No, we have to save Tin-Tin!"

Jeff held up a hand to silence his youngest. "Yes, Scott, you need to get set up. We can't shirk our duty when peoples' lives are at stake."

Alan pounded his fist on the console back near Thunderbird 2's sleeping quarters. "But Tin-Tin's life is at stake!"

"I am very well aware of that, son!" Jeff snapped. "But you have a job to do! I'm going after Tin-Tin and Gordon myself."

"We're coming with you," Ruth said as she placed a hand on Kyrano's arm.

Suddenly Kyrano stiffened. "She's lost consciousness," he reported.

"Is she okay?" Brains asked.

"I do not know."

"But she _is_ alive..."

"Yes, Alan," Kyrano nodded. "She is alive. She was thinking...of you."

Alan slumped back into his seat, wiping unshed tears from his eyes. "Thank God," he whispered. Then he sat back up straight. "But she could be hurt!"

"Father, I'm sixty-two minutes out from Danger Zone," Virgil reported, his face drawn tight. He wanted nothing more than to turn his ship away from the coast and head for New Zealand, but he knew his father was right. They couldn't just let more people die in D.C., not when they were so close and could potentially save them.

"Operate standard rescue," Jeff ordered. "Kyrano and I are heading for New Zealand now. John?"

"Yes, Father?"

"Once we're airborne, I want you to maintain an open line between Tracy One, Base and Mobile Control. We're to keep in contact at all times."

"What about me, Jeff? I'm going, too!"

"No, Mother. I need you here at Base. If that Acronym calls again, you need to be here to take it."

Ruth opened her mouth to speak, but thought the better of it. Her son was right. Someone did need to stay behind, and at nearly ninety years of age, it made the most sense for her to be the one to do it. "Very well," she finally replied.

Scott's feed had shut down as he landed and prepared Mobile Control. Jeff turned back to the portrait wall. "John, I also want you in constant communication with Brains. We need to try and figure out what those things were that destroyed D.C. I want to know where they came from and how we can stop them."

"Yes, Father."

"Kyrano, let's get down to the Maintenance Bay. We're going to need to take a few things with us."

"Jeff!" Ruth called from where she was sitting behind her desk.

"What?"

"I'm picking up a signal. It's Tin-Tin! It's her auto-locator!"

"Yes, I have it too, Father!" John said excitedly.

"Keep a fix on her, both of you. Let me know the second it moves."

"F.A.B.," they both replied.

"Gordon," Alan whispered as Virgil, Brains and John's feeds winked out. "Tin-Tin."

Jeff stopped in mid-stride and turned to his son's sad face. "It'll be all right. We'll find them. You _know_ we will."

Alan nodded and rose to his feet, his heart heavy. "Yes, Father."

"Kyrano? Let's go."

Ruth watched them leave the Lounge as Alan's feed closed down, and sat back in the chair. "There must be something more I can do," she said to the empty room. Turning to the left, she raised the volume on the television, so as to be able to monitor whatever information they might come up with. She picked up a pencil and began tapping it on the desktop. "Acronym," she said, thinking aloud. "Why on Earth would he call himself _Acronym_?"

01:51:59

Tin-Tin moaned as her mind struggled awake. The acrid smell of burning rubber and metal pierced her senses and she began to cough. Her torso ached terribly, but as she began moving around, she didn't think anything had been broken. Pulling her sweater up to cover her nose and mouth, she unbuckled the harness that held her in the seat. The plane was slanted downward, and as she stood and turned around, she found that the entire back half of Ladybird had been sheared right off.

"Boy," she said. "Am I lucky. Now to get out of here."

"Not so fast," came a voice just behind the open end of the plane.

Tin-Tin jumped, startled. It was pitch black outside. The only light was from the glowing console behind her and a small fire just in front of her. "Who's there?" she called out.

A large man dressed in black jeans and wearing a black coat pulled himself up over the twisted metal and into the fuselage. Tin-Tin backed away until she was leaning against the console. At first, a wave of relief washed over her. At least she'd been found, and wouldn't have to spend the night alone in an unforgiving wilderness.

But then a feeling of dread overcame her. She knew instinctively that this man was not here to help her. Her suspicions were confirmed seconds later when he moved toward her, and the light from the fire revealed a weapon in his hand.

"Well, young missy, who do we have here?"

"What'cha got?" a voice called from down below.

"A woman! She's alive!" the man yelled back. Returning his attention to Tin-Tin, he asked, "What are you doing out here?"

"Why did you shoot me down?" she demanded, raising her chin defiantly.

"I asked you first," he hissed, finger tightening around the trigger on his machine pistol.

"I was looking for a friend who's gone missing," she replied quickly.

"Well, well, well," he said. Then he noticed the watch on Tin-Tin's left wrist. He recognized it. It was the same as the one they'd removed from Gordon Tracy's arm. "Hey, Greg! Looks like we were right - International Rescue's on the scene!"

"In a little red airplane?" the man apparently called Greg shouted back. He then laughed. "And a _woman_, to boot!"

"Yeah, what a scream," the man watching Tin-Tin replied. "All right, little lady, let's get moving."

"Where are we going?"

"Well, you came out here lookin' for Gordon Tracy, didn't you?"

Her face paled, but she didn't respond.

"How about we take you to see him?"

Tin-Tin's heart leapt. That could only mean Gordon was still alive! At least, she _hoped_ that's what it meant. She decided to go along willingly, for she knew something they didn't: her GPS beacon was still on. If Tin-Tin was with Gordon, Mr. Tracy and the others would find them, and all would be well. She walked forward and sat down at the edge of the broken plane. There were three men on the ground, about six feet below her.

"Jump," the man behind her ordered.

She took a deep breath and did so, landing in a crouching position. When two of the men tried to help her to her feet, she shook them off, growling a little. The one from the plane jumped down beside her, grabbed her wrist and yanked the watch off.

"No!" she cried.

He smiled evilly. "You won't be needing this," he said, and stuffed it into his pocket.

Tin-Tin's heart sank as the men led her away from Ladybird. She was dimly aware of the sound of a large helijet approaching, and soon it landed quite near them. She was herded toward it and had to resist the urge to run. She knew she had to let them take her to Gordon. She _had_ to know he was okay. Not only that, but she knew her father would soon be trying to contact her with his mind. If nothing else, they should be able to hone in on them through that alone, no matter _where_ she was taken.

"Greg to Boss. Greg to Boss," the man in front of her spoke into a small walkie-talkie.

"Here!" a voice replied. "What'd you find?"

"A woman. She's from International Rescue, by the looks of her watch. She was lookin' for the other one."

"Ah, splendid, just as I suspected. Is she unharmed?"

"Yep, she's all right. Chaney's workin' on movin' her plane."

"Excellent."

"Looks like you've got yourself another bargaining chip, Sir."

"Indeed I do, Gregory. Indeed I do. What's her name?"

"Don't know, Sir. She looks kind of Asian."

"Ah. This must be the young lady Tin-Tin Kyrano. Interesting that Tracy would send only _her_."

Tin-Tin frowned. Who was this 'Boss' and how in the world did he know who she was? And how did he know a 'Tracy' was involved with International Rescue?

A frightening laugh rang out over the walkie-talkie as he continued. "Well, Jefferson, it seems the stakes have just gone higher."

01:59:58

01:59:59

02:00:00


	3. Hour Three

**Hour Three**

_The following takes place between 2:00 a.m. and 3:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

02:01:21

"This is Tracy One calling Thunderbird 5. Come in, John."

"Thunderbird 5 here. Am patching you in with Mobile Control and Base now."

"Fine. Scott? You read me?"

"Strength 5, Father."

"How's it looking over there?"

"Not good, Dad. Not good at all. There are so many people that need our help...but we're only four strong."

"I know, son. I know. But John says our agents from the world over are on their way to help. You'll soon have more hands than you know what to do with. Prioritize and set Virgil and the others on those who need you the most."

"F.A.B. How about Tin-Tin and Gordon? Anything yet?"

"Father!" John broke in. "Tin-Tin's signal is moving. It's moving!"

"Yes," Ruth interjected from Tracy Island, "I'm picking that up, too."

"Where is it headed, son?"

"Due north of where she crash-landed. It must mean she's okay."

"I certainly hope that's what it means," Jeff replied grimly.

"Jeff..."

Kyrano and Jeff exchanged glances. They'd never heard Ruth Tracy hesitate so.

"Mother? What is it?"

"Oh, no."

"What, Grandma?" Scott asked.

"John, are you picking this up?"

"Picking what u--oh. Yes."

"For heaven's sake, what is it?" Jeff barked.

"Patching it through now, Father."

Everyone listened as Ned Cook's voice came over the airwaves.

_"...received a second communication from the man calling himself Acronym, the man who claims responsibility for laying waste to the capital of the United States. In this second call, Acronym has reaffirmed his involvement in the attack, and has given the world an ultimatum: if the members of International Rescue do not reveal their true identities, more death and destruction will occur. Southern California will suffer the next attack in exactly 22 hours. 24 hours after that, New York City. He has threatened that he shall continue attacking humanity the world 'round unless his demands are met."_

Jeff closed his eyes for a moment, and then reopened them. Ned's voice continued.

_"And there is something else. To ensure International Rescue's full compliance, Acronym has informed this station that he is currently holding two members of the outfit hostage, a man and a woman."_

"Oh, no," Scott breathed. "Tin-Tin."

_"Ladies and Gentlemen, as you know, I had the great fortune to have my life saved by International Rescue. If not for them, I would not be here with you on this most tragic day. As many of you out there know, after my harrowing experience in New York City, I began putting together a network of those whose lives have been saved by International Rescue. Our group is called International Rescuees, and now numbers almost three-quarters of a million victims and their families. I think I can speak for each and every person International Rescue has saved when I say, we stand behind you. If you need our help, you know how to contact us. The world needs you. And the world will not abandon you."_

"Boy, he's sure going out on a limb talking like that," Scott said.

"Yes, he is, son. He's made himself a target, the stubborn fool."

"Dad..."

"What is it, Scott?"

"Well...Ned just told the whole world that D.C. was destroyed because Acronym wants us to reveal our identities."

"Well, what is it you're worried about?" Ruth asked.

"It's not gonna take too much for the families and friends of those killed here in Washington to start blaming _us_ for this attack. If they do, we may not be such a welcomed sight around here. I wish that Ned Cook had kept his mouth shut!"

"I think what he's done is courageous," Ruth interjected. "And I think we should take him up on his offer. Three-quarters of a million people, Jeff. Between them and our agents, this Acronym doesn't stand a chance. The public won't have enough _time_ to be angry at us."

"But there's still Gordon and Tin-Tin," John reminded them. "What about them? If Acronym discovers we're trying to flush him out rather than give ourselves up, he'll kill them for sure."

"Mr. Tracy," Kyrano said, trying to recover from having just found out his daughter was being held hostage. "What shall we do?"

Jeff's mind was racing as the jet sped toward New Zealand. What could he do? John was right. If Acronym could kill so many people at once in D.C., he would certainly have no qualms killing two more. And yet, his mother was right as well. So many people offering to help, people who wanted to give something back to those who had helped _them_. How could he refuse such generosity? For the first time since they had begun operating, International Rescue needed help themselves.

It was an agonizing decision Jeff had to make, but when he did, his heart was at one with his mind. As Tracy One began veering away from New Zealand, he said, "John, get hold of Ned Cook. Arrange for a meeting near Los Angeles, somewhere with some privacy. We're going to get some help on this."

"F.A.B."

"Virgil, Brains and Alan are arriving in 20 minutes. I'll brief them."

Jeff heard other voices coming through from Mobile Control. "Scott? Who's there?"

He could hear the smile in Scott's voice as he replied, "Everyone, Father. Our agents. I'd say three hundred people just swarmed in."

Jeff smiled in return. "All right, then. I guess I don't need to worry about you winding up on the wrong end of a rotten egg. You should have what you need on your end. Leave Gordon and Tin-Tin to us."

"Okay, Father. Good luck."

"You, too, son. You, too."

02:16:06

Having dozed off, Gordon started as he began to feel like he was falling. He tumbled backward as the door to the room he was in was thrown open. Gruff hands picked him up and threw him back inside before he was even fully awake. He heard a familiar voice cry out his name.

"Tin-Tin?" he said, scrambling to his feet. In the confusion and the sudden, blinding light, he could see almost nothing beyond the door. Before he could quite figure out what was going on, he felt someone slam into him. They sprawled onto the floor as his hands reached up and grabbed two arms. They heard the door clang shut, and the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking behind it.

"Tin-Tin? Is that you?"

"Oh, Gordon!" she cried, hugging him fiercely. "You're all right! You're alive!"

"What are you doing here? Where are we? What's going on?"

Extricating herself from his arms, Tin-Tin crawled off him and sat cross-legged on the floor. But she would not move her hand from his leg as he sat up next to her. It was so dark in the room. And now, having found him, she was terrified of losing him.

"I don't know where we are exactly, Gordon. We're underwater somewhere. These men, there were four of them, they made me get on a helijet and then we boarded a submarine."

Gordon breathed deeply before replying, "I knew it. I could feel the water pressure. I knew I was underwater. I could feel us surfacing and diving." There was a moment's silence before he repeated his original question. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to find you."

He smiled wryly into the blackness. "Well, I guess you succeeded."

02:23:17

"Acronym," Ruth muttered, scribbling letters on a piece of paper. "Acronym. Acronym." She scratched out whatever she'd written and rewrote the letters again. "A-C-R-O-N-Y-M," she spelled out. "C-R-Y-M-A...no, that's not right." She crossed it out and began again, staring intently at the word in front of her. She played these games sometimes with Brains, seeing how many words they could make up out of his long, scientific terminology. It served to help her neurons keep firing right, she would tell him. "And why would a fellow call himself _Acronym_ unless he meant something by it?" she asked aloud.

"You still at that, Mother?" Jeff's voice came from the console behind her.

"Yes, I am. I'm convinced there's a clue to this man's identity here somewhere."

"Well, keep at it, then. If anyone can figure it out, it's you."

"Father, you should see some of these talk programs that are going on."

"What about 'em, John?"

"Scott was right. It looks like some of these people _are_ blaming us for what happened."

"How can they?" Ruth asked. "We had nothing to do with it!"

"A lot of lives were lost, Mother. Everyone's angry, and they need someone to blame. I just hope we can put a stop to it before anything else happens."

"Father, I've also been on direct link with Brains in Thunderbird 2."

"What've you come up with, John?"

"I'm patching Brains through now."

"Mr. Tracy?"

"Yes, Brains, I'm here."

"Well, uh, given what information John's been a-able to, uh, gather on the objects that hit here, a-and from the, uh, destructive pattern I've seen, I-I think I know what they're using."

"And that is...?"

"The o-only thing that makes sense, is a-a new formula they've been, uh, toying with over at Canton Aeronautics."

"Canton? As in Canton Corporation? In Kansas City?" Jeff asked.

"Y-Yes, exactly. A-About three weeks ago, I received a, uh, communiqué from a fellow scientist who'd recently left the, uh, company. He told me about a formula they'd developed called, uh, uranium trihydrazine, o-or UH-3 for short. He left Canton due to, uh, misalignment with their o-objectives."

"What exactly _were_ their objectives, Brains?"

"They wanted to use the, uh, UH-3 in weapons of mass destruction, Mr., uh, Tracy. Dr. Godfrey refused to be a-a part of such goings-on and resigned."

"Are you certain the ones that hit Washington are made of UH-3?"

"Well, I-I'd know more if I could, uh, take some samples from the area. I-It's not harmful after detonation, but it breaks down to, uh, a very distinctive compound a-afterwards. I-If I find that compound here, I'll know I'm right."

"Okay, then. Scott, find an agent or two with a scientific background. Then get them together with Brains so he can confirm his theory."

"F.A.B."

"Brains, do everything you can, as quickly as possible. And see if you can't get your Dr. Godfrey's help. If he worked on this thing, he'll know more about it than anyone."

"Yes, Sir!"

"John, get on with our office in Arlington. They should know of a laboratory Brains can use."

"Right away, Father."

"Kyrano and I will be arriving in Los Angeles in approximately twenty-seven minutes. After we meet with Ned Cook, I'll let you know what goes on."

"_I've got it!_" Ruth cried.

Jeff nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise. "Good Lord, Mother! What've you got?"

"I've got it, Jeff! I know what Acronym stands for! _My Acorn!_"

"My Acorn?" Kyrano asked, frowning. "What does _that_ mean?" He looked down at the steering yoke and noticed his friend's hands were gripping it a little too hard. He then looked up at his face. It had gone white. "Mr. Tracy?"

"It can't be," Jeff whispered. "Mother, it can't be."

"It makes sense, Jeff! It makes _perfect_ sense!"

Jeff's mind flashed back to high school. It was his senior year, and he'd been looking forward to joining the Air Force, to escaping life as a farmer and heading off for more exciting adventures. During the summer, a family had moved into a newly built house about eight miles from the Tracy farm. The Cantons were well to do. Michael Canton had just severed a long tenure with NASA as the head of their Research and Development division. He'd moved his family to Middle-of-Nowhere, Kansas so Mr. Canton could begin his own aerospace company fairly cheaply.

Jeff recalled that Michael's wife Jenny had been a beautiful woman, but very flighty and somewhat dingy, to his way of thinking. They had one child, Michael Canton II. An eighteen-year old himself, he'd transferred into Thomas Jefferson High School. As the only new person in a class full of kids who'd known each other practically their whole lives he was, almost by necessity, an outsider, and made very few friends. Of course, the fact that he acted like a rich, spoiled brat did nothing to endear him to the grass roots students of Jefferson High.

Warm, open and friendly, Jeff had attempted several conversations with Michael, but found him aristocratic and full of himself. He'd continued, however, to try and include the young man in various parties and gatherings throughout their senior year. Michael usually managed to make himself disliked almost from the moment he arrived, so eventually Jeff stopped inviting him.

When Michael realized he was being shut out, he began showing up at the Tracy Farm at all hours of the day and night. At first, Ruth had felt sorry for him, and tried to be nice to him, inviting him over for dinner and encouraging Jeff to take him fishing. Michael, however, did nothing but use Jeff's parents, and after several unfriendly altercations, Jeff and his mother had a discussion about the young man, during which Jeff had called Michael an "A-hole". Ruth's stern reply had been, "A-_corn_, dear. A_corn_." Young Jeff had laughed and from that day on he'd referred to Michael Canton II as _My Acorn_.

It also didn't help matters that as soon as Michael the 2nd had met Lucille, he'd wanted her. Michael's father was the mighty conqueror type...if he wanted something he just took it. His son worked the same angle with Lucy, but she wanted no part of him. So no matter how hard he tried, both with girls and with anything else in his life, he couldn't live up to his father's expectations.

About halfway through their senior year, now no longer on speaking terms thanks to a knockdown drag-out fight about Lucille, an incident occurred which burned whatever shell of a bridge had remained between Michael and Jeff. Due to his bad luck with girls, a rumor had begun circulating around Jefferson High that Michael was gay. When he was eventually confronted about it by a group of guys from the football team, he was so embarrassed that he'd missed an entire week of school.

The worst part was he'd been certain Jeff was behind it, when in actuality nothing could've been further from the truth. For the last two months of school, as the rest of the class ostracized him, Michael did everything he could think of to get Jeff expelled. He was determined to ruin Jeff's chances with the Air Force. He even went so far as to engineer a prank that sent Jefferson High's principal to the hospital with a broken leg. He'd planted evidence pointing to Jeff Tracy as the prime suspect, but eventually Jeff and his friends had found proof to the contrary, and two weeks before graduation, Michael Canton II found himself expelled from high school with no chance at getting his diploma.

Jeff knew Michael had never forgiven him for that, but he also knew that he hadn't needed his diploma. After his expulsion, he worked for his father for six years until the elder Canton died of a heart attack. _My Acorn_ then took over Canton Corporation, which had grown considerably, and he'd been at its helm ever since.

Years later luck, or lack thereof, found Jeff Tracy forming an aeronautics company to try and get a fresh start for his family a year after the death of his wife. The more successful the company became, and the more wealth Jeff acquired, the more Michael Canton II hated him. Jeff vividly remembered the one run-in he'd had with him at the very lecture in Paris where he'd asked Brains to become Chief Engineer for International Rescue.

Frustrated and angry with himself for being unable to live up to his father's reputation, and with the additional slap in the face that Jeff himself wound up marrying Lucille, Michael's anger and ire had focused on the man he felt thwarted him. That primordial soup of misplaced hatred cooked and boiled within Michael, who vowed that one day he would take his revenge on Jefferson Tracy. That, he told himself, would just _show_ his dead but still overbearing father how ruthless he could be.

Michael was less-than-kind after the lecture and accused Jeff of going into the same business as he just to bring him down. In addition, the rumors of his homosexuality, which he still blamed Jeff for, had caused more than their fair share of trouble for him throughout his life. Jeff insisted he'd had nothing to do with any of it, but Michael had gone on and on about how Jeff wanted what he had, wanted to destroy his life, wanted to take everything away from him.

When he'd finally had enough, Jeff just stood up and said, "Listen, Canton, I don't know what your problem is. I don't know why you've continued to hate me all these years. But I do know that the business I'm in has _nothing_ to do with you or your family, or your companies! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to see a man about a machine!"

He'd left Michael Canton II sputtering behind him and found Brains, spiriting him away in his limousine before Canton had a chance of catching up. He'd never heard another word from him. Until now.

Coming back to the present, he cleared his throat and checked the chronometer on Tracy One's control panel. "Eight minutes out from Los Angeles," he announced softly.

"Jeff? You okay?"

"Yeah, Mother. I'm okay. You know, it's funny; I thought I recognized that voice on the vidphone. I just couldn't place who it was."

"It's Michael Canton. Isn't it, Jeff." It was not a question.

"Yes, Mother. I'm almost certain of it. And if what Brains says about the UH-3 bombs is true, that just confirms it even more."

"I can't believe he'd go this far. All because of what happened all those years ago? And Lucille?"

"He never _could_ stomach the fact that she married me."

"Jeff, this isn't an acronym, it's an anagram! That kid never was very bright in school."

Jeff chuckled in spite of himself. "Yeah, but he's obviously bright enough to figure us out."

"How on Earth did he find out about International Rescue?" Ruth asked.

"I can't imagine. He must have been tracking me since that day in Paris. One way or another, he's found out. And now my son and Kyrano's daughter are his prisoners."

"Mr. Tracy?" Kyrano piped up. "Who is Michael Canton?"

"A very sick man. And someone who's going to pay for what he's done if it's the last thing I ever do," Jeff replied.

02:42:06

Ruth looked up from where she'd been staring at the words _My Acorn_ written on the scrap of paper in front of her. Her eyelids began drooping as she watched continuing coverage of the disaster in Washington, D.C. She was so tired. So awfully tired. An incoming signal jolted her awake and she scanned the vid portraits on the wall. At last her eyes came to rest on the beautiful picture of Lady Penelope. The string of pearls was lighting up, so Ruth opened a line.

"International Rescue here."

"Mrs. Tracy?" Penelope asked, one eyebrow raised as her face appeared on the screen.

"Hello, Penny. How are you?"

"I'm fine, Mrs. Tracy, just fine. Where are Jeff and the others?"

Ruth sighed. "It's a long story."

"Well, Parker and I are about fifteen minutes away from Los Angeles. You can tell me all about it when we've arrived and settled in. I will contact you shortly. Lady Penelope out."

Ruth wished Penny and Parker were coming to the island instead of staying in L.A. Besides being friends, they would've been much-needed company, for she was getting lonely sitting there at Jeff's desk. Never in her life had she been so devoid of companionship as she had been this last hour. Silence hung like an ominous presence over the whole island, nearly screaming its truth about the dark circumstances now upon this normally tranquil and happy place.

"Jeff, I assume you overheard that?"

"Yes, Mother. I'm glad Penny will be in place shortly. Kyrano and I will probably be meeting with Ned Cook by the time she gets settled. I want you two to keep in touch with John. I'll expect a report on Penny's findings, if she's got any, once we're through with Ned."

"All right, Jeff. Good luck with Mr. Cook."

"Thanks, Mother. I'll be in touch."

02:48:12

With Virgil and Alan's assistance, and the help of some ten other International Rescue agents, Scott made sure the gaggle of people who'd come to take part in the biggest rescue of their lives were deployed over the entire area that had once been Washington, D.C. He remained on high alert, for every ten seconds, it seemed, some agent or other was calling in needing assistance, and Scott would have to check his notes and the agents' locators in order to send the most people there in the fastest manner possible.

The tricky thing was trying to get the heavy rescue equipment where it was needed. Burning rubble covering most of the city made for tough going with some of it, and since only Virgil and Alan were available for piloting duties, that meant only two machines could be deployed at any given time. They'd toyed with the idea of teaching some of the more mechanically inclined agents how to run minor pieces of equipment, but in the end decided the risk to those unfamiliar with their technology would be greater than the benefit they might provide.

So Scott also had the daunting task of trying to deploy Alan and Virgil in Firefly and The Mole in order of necessity. Given that 75 of the calls for both vehicles were dire in nature, that left Scott feeling like he was playing God, deciding who would get help first and, by default, who might die because of his decisions while others lived. It was a role he was loathe to take on, but one he knew was very necessary. Firefighters, police and rescue personnel from across the United States had begun to arrive. At least their equipment, though not as sophisticated as International Rescue's, would ease the burden on Virgil and Alan, and for that Scott was grateful.

Brains had not checked in as yet from the laboratory in Arlington he and three other agents had gone to with samples of debris from throughout the area. But Scott knew better than to bother him. He wanted Brains to work fast to determine if UH-3 was indeed the culprit in this attack. If so, it would give them a starting place as to who was behind all this. Having been away from Mobile Control, and therefore away from the open connection to Tracy One, Base and Thunderbird 5, Scott wasn't yet aware that his grandmother and father had already determined the source of their woes. Or at least, _thought_ they had.

Scott finished up a call with Agent 120, who had discovered three survivors in the basement of a collapsed building on the other side of the city. There was no way for 120 or her companions to reach them, so Scott felt The Mole was needed.

"This is Mobile Control calling The Mole. Come in, Virgil."

"Mole here."

"How are you doing at your location?"

"Just on our way back up to the surface. There were five people down there. One of them was a baby. She...she didn't survive, Scott."

He heard the pain in his brother's voice and it echoed the pain he felt in his own chest. In a disaster of this magnitude, it was inevitable that they'd run into dead bodies, but it was always hardest to deal with when those dead bodies belonged to children. "How about the other four?"

Virgil took a deep breath before replying, "They're all right, the baby's mother has some broken bones, but she'll be okay. Physically, at least."

"All right, Virgil. Good work. As soon as you offload those people, I need you at reference 34-10. Agent 120 has found three people trapped in the basement of a burning building. It doesn't look like there's much time to get them out, so hurry."

"F.A.B., Scott. I'll radio as soon as I'm on the scene. Mole out."

"Mobile Control to Firefly. What's your status, Alan?"

"Clearing some debris so fire engines can get through. I should have it out of the way in about five minutes. How's Virgil doing?"

"He just rescued four people and I'm sending him over to another location."

"Where do you want me after I'm through here?"

Scott looked at his list. Medic Burkhart of Arlington Fire Company #1 had requested assistance in reaching the White House, which was surrounded on all sides by a high wall of flames they couldn't hope to get through. "All right, Alan, I'll need you to head directly to the White House. The engines are having no luck getting through a ring of fire surrounding it. You'll need to get the emergency personnel through and make sure they can get out again, just in case some of those folks are still alive."

"F.A.B., Scott. I have one more pile to get through here. Am going to fire a nitro pellet."

"All right, Alan. Be careful."

"Sure thing, Scott. Here goes."

But the explosion that Scott heard next didn't come from a small nitro pellet. He rose to his feet, gazing at a point about a mile away where a ball of fire rose into the sky. The color drained from his face as his jaw dropped. He reached down and pressed a button on the panel, never taking his eyes from the dissipating fireball.

"Firefly, this is Mobile Control. Come in." His hand began to tremble as he jabbed at the button again. "Alan, this is Scott. Can you hear me? Come in, please!"

The cold hand of fear gripped Scott's heart, nearly freezing it to a complete stop in his chest. He closed his eyes; doing everything he could to maintain his composure. When he reopened them, they glistened in the light of the sun. "Firefly, check in immediately!" Nothing. "Alan! Come in! _Now!_"

"Scott?" came a voice over the airwaves. "Scott, what is it? What's happened?"

"I don't know, John. I can't raise Alan."

"Hang on, I'll see if I can get a fix on him."

Scott's fingers drummed nervously on the panel. Alan had to be fine. He just _had_ to.

"Scott..."

The sound of John's voice caused Fear's icy grip to tighten, nearly cutting off Scott's ability to breathe. "What is it, John?"

"I--I can't find Firefly's signal, Scott. She's just...disappeared."

"No," Scott whispered. "And Alan...what about Alan's GPS?"

There was a moment of silence before John replied, his voice barely audible. "No, Scott. I don't have him."

"No," came Scott's strained voice again. "No. Not Alan. Oh, god, no. Alan!" Scott abandoned Mobile Control without a moment's hesitation. He barely heard John's voice calling out to him as he sprinted towards where he'd seen the fireball. Not his baby brother, not the one he'd brought into the world, it couldn't be. Alan was fine, Alan was fine, he'd be okay...but John couldn't pick up Firefly. Or their brother. Tears stung Scott's eyes as his legs carried him faster than they'd ever carried him before. He had to know. No matter what had happened, he had to know. Now.

02:58:14

The first thing he felt like doing when he skidded to a halt near a hook-and-ladder unit on the scene was vomiting. For not twenty feet in front of him, Firefly was upside-down. It was bent in the middle, as though its metal hull had been heated until malleable, then twisted by giant hands before cooling. Its caterpillar treads were gone, leaving their black wheel tracks spinning uselessly. The front dozer was missing; Scott didn't even have it in his line of vision.

Seeing his uniform, two firemen rushed up to his side. "Is this one of yours?" one of them asked.

Scott nodded. "Yes. There was an explosion, and now we can't raise him."

"You'd better come with us."

Scott allowed the men to lead him around to the left of Firefly. Noxious fumes permeated the air, making him gag. One of the firemen put an oxygen mask on him as they walked, and when they rounded her front, Scott stopped dead in his tracks. The entire left side of the vehicle had been torn away, leaving the inside of the cockpit fully exposed. He looked down to where a group of paramedics and firefighters were gathered in a circle. He could hear the familiar sounds of CPR being performed and what was left of his heart forced its way into his throat.

He ran the last few feet to the circle and pushed his way through. "Oh, my God," he breathed, dropping to his knees beside a burned and motionless body. "Alan. _Alan!_"

02:59:58

02:59:59

03:00:00


	4. Hour Four

**Hour Four**

_The following takes place between 3:00 a.m. and 4:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

03:00:19

To Jeff Tracy, Ned Cook seemed different than he had during his television broadcast. Thinking he knew what the problem was, Jeff said, "Ned, I can't thank you enough for your discretion. In your business, this has gotta be a tough can of worms to keep closed."

Ned smiled as he shook first Jeff's hand, then Kyrano's. The three had met inside a room at a small flea-trap in one of the less desirable areas of Los Angeles, California. It had been determined that neither Jeff Tracy, nor the head of International Rescue, would ever be suspected of hanging 'round a dump like this. That made it safe. For now.

"Well, Mr. Tracy, I recognized you as soon as you walked through the door. And since I knew I was meeting with someone from International Rescue, it wasn't too hard to put the pieces together. But you can count on my silence. I don't want to see you exposed any more than you do. Even though it would do wonders for my career..."

Jeff smiled knowingly. "Ned, if you can help us pull this off, you'll have the biggest story you've ever seen. An exclusive."

His face brightened. "You got that right!" Then his face darkened. "But I'm afraid I've made a grave error."

"How so?"

"I should never have broadcast that information about International Rescue, or about the two hostages."

"You were just doing your job."

"That may be true, but I failed to stop and take into account the consequences of my actions. Just like at the oil fire when Thunderbird 1 had to chase me down and erase the footage I had Joe take. I just wanted to get my story, and to hell with how it affected anyone else."

"I don't think I see the connection."

"Mr. Tracy, because I let it out about Acronym destroying D.C. as a precursor for wanting you to reveal yourselves, because I reported on the hostages...well, it's affected public opinion of you."

Now Jeff understood. "What's done is done, Ned. One way or another that information probably would've leaked out anyway. But given that you _did_ report it, are you sure the members of International Rescuees want to help?"

"Oh, yes!" Ned nodded emphatically as he seated himself on the bed. "I've spoken to our board, and they've put the call out. Nearly half our membership is on their way here as we speak. The board is working on getting in touch with the rest of the families."

"Well, we've got an idea who this Acronym might be. We also think we know what those bombs were made of that destroyed D.C. I've got our scientists working on that angle right now."

"Mr. Tracy..."

They turned to look at Kyrano, whose eyes were closed.

"What is it?"

"Mr. Tracy, it's Tin-Tin. I'm finally picking her up again."

"Is she all right?"

"Who's Tin-Tin?"

"She's the female operative you referred to in your report."

"The one Acronym's holding?"

Jeff nodded, and then turned back to his friend. "Kyrano, is Tin-Tin all right?"

"Yes..." he said slowly, his brow furrowed in concentration. Suddenly his eyes popped open and he gave a start. "Sir! It's Gordon! She's with Gordon!"

"Are they okay?" he asked, gut churning.

"Yes, they are okay. They are somewhere very dark. She cannot see Gordon even though he is right next to her."

Jeff let out the breath he'd been holding. "Well, at least we know they're alive. Kyrano, do you think you could find them through this connection with your daughter?"

The Asiatic man nodded, then exclaimed, "Sir! They're underwater!"

"Underwater?"

"Yes, they are in a submarine."

"Where?"

"I do not know. She is not certain of their exact location."

Ned listened, taking everything in, storing it away in his mind. So, the woman named Tin-Tin was this man Kyrano's daughter, and somehow he was able to contact her telepathically. And the other operative being held hostage was named Gordon. Wait...Gordon?

"Did you say Gordon!" Ned asked, jumping to his feet.

"Why, yes. Gordon's the other hostage."

"Isn't...isn't he the one...who saved me and Joe? In Thunderbird 4?"

Jeff smiled softly and nodded. "Yes, that was Gordon."

"He talked us in. We were outta air, we were nearly dead, but he talked us in. He wouldn't let us give up. He risked everything down there in that underground river." Ned walked up to Jeff and laid a hand on his arm. When he spoke, his voice had lost its normal joviality. "I won't let Acronym kill him. Not the man who saved my life. Tell me what you want me to do."

03:13:16

"John! What's going on?"

"I don't know, Grandma, I think something's happened to Alan!"

"We'd better get Jeff on the line."

"On it. John Tracy to Jeff Tracy. Emergency! Please respond!"

"Oh, dear!" Penny exclaimed from her hotel room as Parker brought in a tray of biscuits and tea. As soon as they'd gotten settled, John had patched her into the continuous communication going on between Tracy One, Mobile Control and the island base. "What could have happened?"

"I don't know, but it doesn't sound good. Especially if Scott's left Mobile Control."

"H'anythin' h'else I can do, m'lady?"

"Hold tight, Parker. I daresay Jeff will need us somewhere rather quickly."

"Yes, m'lady," Parker replied.

Penny was concerned for Ruth. As she watched from her vid portrait on the wall, she noticed the elderly woman looked quite tired. "Are you all right, Mrs. Tracy?"

"My dear, I think it's high time you called me Ruth. You know I don't stand on decorum. And yes, I'm fine. Just a bit tired."

Penny laughed lightly. "All right, then, Ruth. Are you certain you're well?"

"Don't you worry about me, Penelope. Jeff didn't get all his stubbornness from his father, you know."

03:15:03

"They shot you _down_?"

Tin-Tin nodded, even though she knew Gordon couldn't see her. "Yes, it was a small jet. I was so busy listening to what was going on back at Base, I didn't even see it until it was on me."

"Are you hurt?"

"Bumps and bruises, but I think I'll be fine."

"Tin-Tin, do you know what's going on? Who's holding us?"

She told Gordon the story of Washington, D.C. and Acronym, as well as the ultimatum his father had received regarding International Rescue. "Gordon, if...if your father doesn't reveal our identities, Acronym said...well, he said he was going to kill you."

Gordon's hand found Tin-Tin's, which still rested upon his leg, and he squeezed it. "Don't worry. We'll be okay."

"I wish I had your confidence. Oh, Alan and the others must be _frantic_ by now!"

"If I know Alan, he's probably hijacked a plane and is on his way to rescue you as we speak."

"Not if your father has anything to do with it. International Rescue's needed in Washington...or what's left of it."

Gordon suddenly became silent. It was a few moments before he found his voice. "I can't believe they destroyed the _entire_ city. I just can't believe it. All those people...and all because of us. What Father must be thinking..."

"I know. For all the lives we've saved over the years, that many may have just been wiped out in a single, vicious act. What do you think your father will do?"

"Move Heaven and Earth, Tin-Tin. Move Heaven and Earth."

03:29:44

Jeff heard the emergency signal coming through his watch. He raised his wrist to his face and found John's agitated countenance staring back at him. "John? What is it?"

"Are we in the clear?"

Jeff looked up to where Ned was speaking with Kyrano across the room. He turned to face the wall and whispered, "Yes, we are. What's happened?"

"Father, it's Alan."

The elder Tracy froze. "Alan?"

"Yes, Grandma and I don't know what's going on. We heard Alan tell Scott he was going to fire a nitro pellet into a pile of rubble. Then there was an explosion. Both Firefly and Alan's signals have disappeared."

Jeff closed his eyes. First Gordon, then Tin-Tin. And now Alan. "What's Scott say?"

"I can't raise him, Father. He left Mobile Control right after I told him I couldn't pick up Alan's GPS. I've been trying his watch, but I can't get him to answer."

Jeff sighed. "Has Penny arrived in Los Angeles yet?"

"Yes, Father, only just. She and Parker are in their motel room now, they've been trying to help us raise Scott."

"Well, we've just about wrapped it up with Ned. I think we've got a good plan of action here. Patch me through to Penny."

"F.A.B."

"Jeff, this is Penelope."

"Hi, Penny. Wish we were speaking under better circumstances."

"As do I."

"Have you been able to find Scott?"

"No, I'm afraid he's not answering. Parker's on the line with Virgil now, using Firefly's last known coordinates in an attempt to get him over to where the explosion occurred."

"Dammit!" Jeff swore, slamming the back of his fist against the wall. Ned and Kyrano turned to look at him, shocked by his outburst.

"What is it, Sir?" Kyrano asked, approaching him.

"It's Alan. Something may have happened to him, but nobody's been able to get hold of Scott to find out. This is just getting worse and worse by the minute!"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Tracy," Ned said as he came to stand next to Kyrano.

Leaning against the wall with his arm, Jeff's head hung low for a moment as he tried to think, tried to come up with solutions for a game that was changing faster than the rule book could keep up. "Maybe I _should_ just reveal our identities," he said quietly. "If I did that, Acronym would let Gordon and Tin-Tin go. And no one else would have to get hurt."

Kyrano and the reporter exchanged worried looks. It was finally Ned who gave voice to their thoughts. "Mr. Tracy, I know I'm not a part of International Rescue, and I probably have no right voicing my opinion on the matter, but if I were you, I wouldn't give in. We still have time."

"Time for what?" Jeff asked, standing up straight and looking right into Ned's eyes. "Time for the public to end up hating us? Time for the rest of my family to die while I sit here trying to choose between their lives and International Rescue?"

_Ah,_ Ned thought. _So **that's** it. They're family. They're **all** family. Gordon must be one of his sons. No wonder he's so broken up about this._ Aloud he replied, "How do you know Acronym will really let them go like he says? How can you trust a guy who wipes out a whole city with no warning whatsoever?"

Jeff looked from Ned to Kyrano, whose silent gaze told him he was in agreement with the reporter. He rubbed a weary hand down his face and nodded slowly. "You're right. You're both right. Okay, Ned, let's proceed as discussed. Keep in touch on that frequency I gave you."

"I will, Mr. Tracy. And good luck."

"You, too. And Ned? Thanks."

Ned smiled and nodded as Kyrano opened the door. Jeff lifted his wrist to his face. "I suppose you heard all that, Penny."

"Yes, I did. And let me tell you something, Jefferson Tracy, if I ever hear you speak in that manner again, I shall make your life utterly miserable!"

He chuckled. "The only way you could do that is by not being there for me, Pen." He thought for a moment before continuing. "I should really get over to D.C. and see about Alan."

"No, Jeff!" came Penny's alarmed reply. "You can't!"

"Whaddya mean I can't?" Jeff retorted as he and Kyrano entered their car.

"Listen to me. Scott and Virgil are there and Brains is nearby. You have nearly three hundred International Rescue agents, each one of them personally approved by you, who are also there to assist."

"But I'm his _father_!"

"Yes, you are. And you're also Jeff Tracy. You know very well you could easily be recognized. Showing such great concern for a member of International Rescue could very well be your undoing as well as the organization's."

Jeff silently contemplated Penny's words.

"That's not all, Jeff. It could also be the end of Gordon and Tin-Tin's lives."

Kyrano looked at his friend with fear upon his face. Jeff closed his eyes. All he wanted to do was steer his jet to the opposite coast where his sons needed him. But Penny's points were all valid. Taking a deep breath, he nodded at her, and she visibly relaxed.

"Well, if I can't personally be there for Alan, I _will_ personally help Gordon and Tin-Tin."

"What have you in mind, Jeff?"

"Penny? Kyrano? Here's what we're going to do..."

03:40:26

"Alan! Oh, god, Alan!" Scott cried as he got a good look at his baby brother.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but please, you must stay back so we can try to save his life."

"Is he breathing?" Scott asked as one of the firemen escorted him out of the circle. He strained to continue watching. "Is he alive?"

No one answered. As the paramedics pumped Alan's chest and breathed into his mouth, Scott couldn't keep one tear from escaping an eye and rolling down his cheek. He couldn't even move to wipe it away as it landed on the mask over his nose and mouth. Suddenly, a familiar sound cut through the din. It took him a bit to realize it was his com watch. Scott's heart left his throat and sank right down to the bottom of his shoes. His family. How was he going to tell his family?

Scott's voice was flat and lifeless as he spoke. "Scott here."

"Scott! There you are!" Virgil's worried face appeared in the watch dial. "Everybody's been frantic trying to raise you! John said something happened to Alan! Is he okay?"

"I-I don't know, Virg. Get here. Please."

The unspoken but clearly implied meaning was _I need you_. Virgil read it loud and clear and replied, "Two minutes. I'm there in two minutes."

Scott stripped the oxygen mask off and handed it to one of the two firemen who flanked him. He could do nothing but stand there helplessly as the medics tried valiantly to save his little brother's life. From what Scott had seen, most of his hair looked singed, his body burnt. There was barely a scrap of uniform left. His face seemed to be in good condition, but one look at Firefly told Scott that whatever had happened didn't bode well for his baby brother.

"Do we know what caused the explosion?" he finally asked.

"Well, Mr., uh, Mr..."

"Scott. Name's Scott," he said, reaching out and shaking both firemen's hands.

"Right. I'm Aaron and that's Al."

Scott blanched at the man's name. Al is what he'd always called Alan, ever since he was a kid. He recovered enough to nod and reply, "Pleased to meet some of this country's bravest heroes."

"Same here, Scott. You fellas are _our_ heroes, no matter what anyone says. Best we can figure, one of those little bombs that destroyed the city to begin with didn't detonate. Whatever your friend was doing, he must've hit it somehow and set it off."

Scott closed his eyes and shook his head. "The nitro pellet. He was firing a nitro pellet to blast through the last of the debris," he breathed.

"Oh, that'd sure do it," the fireman named Al commented.

Just then, the sound of loud machinery deafened them. Scott turned to see the Mole pull up behind the hook-and-ladder. As Virgil emerged from the metal beast, a sharp cry of joy pierced the air.

"I've got a pulse!"

Scott raced back to the circle surrounding his fallen brother. He knelt next to Alan's head and stroked his blackened hair as his chest rose and fell softly. A shiver ran through him as his hand came away covered with strands of hair.

"Oh, Al," he said softly. "You're gonna be okay now. You're gonna be okay."

"Scott!" Virgil cried, running up and kneeling next to him. He looked down at Alan, whose face had just been covered with an oxygen mask. A huge burst of air escaped his mouth as his chest heaved, only a strangled cry escaping his throat.

Scott felt stronger already, both because Alan was alive and because his closest sibling was now there. He placed a hand on Virgil's shoulder and rose to his feet, bringing his brother up with him. Neither had taken their eyes from Alan's prone form as the medics stabilized him and placed him on a hover stretcher.

"Is he...is he..." Virgil choked out.

"He's breathing. They just got him breathing," Scott replied, fighting the urge to lose control of his emotions.

Virgil nodded slowly as the paramedics rushed Alan to the ambulance. "One of us oughtta go. He shouldn't be alone right now."

Scott was torn. The big brother in him wanted desperately to hop into that ambulance with Alan. But the International Rescue part of him knew he was badly needed there at the Danger Zone. Just then, Brains and three others rushed up behind them.

"Scott! Virgil! I-I heard the news from Base that something's happened to A-Alan! Nobody knows what's going on!"

"Dammit, I have to get in touch with 'em," Scott said. He looked at the ambulance again, where the medics were settling Alan in for what was sure to be a bumpy ride out of the city.

Brains followed his gaze. "I'll go," he offered quietly.

"No, Brains, I need you here to operate the equipment. With Alan gone..."

A woman who looked to be about their age stepped forward from behind Brains. "Hi," she said, holding her hand out to Scott. "Agent One-Thirteen."

Scott nodded slightly and shook her hand.

"If you want someone to stay with him, I'll go. I'm doctor of forensic medicine, I can keep an eye on what's going on at the hospital and maintain contact with you."

Scott, Virgil and Brains exchanged glances. They all nodded in silent agreement.

"Okay, 113," Scott said. "I'd greatly appreciate it." As she began walking away, he ran after her. "Here!" he said, removing the com watch from his wrist. "Use this to stay in touch. It's a direct link to Mobile Control."

113 turned, smiled and took the watch from Scott's hand. "I know we don't use names much here, but if you don't mind my asking..." she said, nodding her head toward the ambulance.

"Alan. His name's Alan," Scott replied.

She nodded and leapt into the back of the ambulance. "I'll take good care of him!" she called out. The two firemen, Aaron and Al, closed the doors behind her and pounded on the sides of the vehicle, letting them know it was okay to go.

Virgil and Brains came to stand on either side of Scott, and they watched the ambulance speed away, sirens blaring and lights flashing.

"Her name," Scott said. "I didn't even think to ask her name."

03:50:21

Ruth and Penny turned at the sound of an incoming transmission. The portraits on the wall soon revealed who was calling in.

"Scott!" Ruth cried as she jabbed the line open. "Scott! Where have you been?"

"Sorry, Grandma," he smiled tiredly.

"Is Alan all right? What happened?" Penelope asked.

"Hi, Penny," Scott acknowledged from his spot on the next wall. "Alan was using Firefly to clear debris, and best they can figure, he fired a nitro pellet right into an unexploded UH-3 bomb."

"Alan," Ruth said, rising to her feet. "What about Alan? How is he?"

"Well, he's alive, but he's in bad shape, Grandma. One of our agents, a doctor, is going with him to the hospital."

"I'm going, too," Ruth announced.

"Ruth..."

"No, Penny. I'm not going to sit here while my grandson lies in a hospital somewhere with only a stranger to look out for him."

"Scott? Mother? Penny? What's going on?"

"Ah, Jeff. Scott's just rung us with news about Alan," Penny replied.

"How is he, Scott?"

"Not too good, Dad. We sent Agent 113 with him in the ambulance. I'm getting ready to deploy Virgil again in the Mole, but Firefly's shot."

"113, you say?"

"Yeah, Father, do you know her?"

"Sure, she's in forensics. I met her two years ago in Brazil. It was pure happenstance, but I knew she was agent material. Dr. Megan Crawford. Now, listen up. Kyrano says Gordon and Tin-Tin are underwater somewhere. When we get back to Base, we'll need to try and pinpoint their exact location."

"Jeff, I will _not_ sit idly by while Alan's thousands of miles away! I want someone to take me to Alan immediately!" Ruth practically ordered.

He sighed. Jeff understood exactly where she was coming from. He wanted to see his son, too. "All right. I'll pick you up and take you myself. Kyrano will have to man our equipment on Base."

"Jeff, I thought we discussed this already."

"Dammit, Penny, I know we did. But I can't just leave him there without seeing him. I can't."

There was a moment's silence until she replied, "I understand."

Jeff nodded his thanks. "What've you come up with on your end?"

"Well, your mother briefed me on the theory that it _is_ Michael Canton who's engineering this whole thing. Based on that supposition, I made some inquiries and discovered that he's in possession of at least seven homes the world 'round. He also owns many undeveloped properties in the United States, but I couldn't tie him to New Zealand at all."

"Mother? John? What about Tin-Tin's signal?"

"It's odd, Father," John replied. "It stopped for a while, then continued. Next thing I know, its shooting so fast it can only mean they took her somewhere in a plane or helijet."

"Yes," Kyrano said, his voice confident. "She was transported in an aircraft. She then boarded a submarine." The air waves were silent for a moment as they waited for more. "They're in a metal room. I feel her clearly."

"Jeff, I want to come with you," Penny said. She had the feeling he shouldn't be alone right now. She wanted to be there for him.

She could hear the smile in his voice as he replied, "Right. Okay, here's the action: Kyrano and I should be home in less than an hour. When we arrive, we'll refuel and I'll take Mother to Los Angeles. We'll rendezvous with Penny and wait for Scott to arrive -- he can get us there faster than Tracy One. John, tell him to take off immediately."

"F.A.B., Father."

"H'and wot of Mister Kyrano and meself, Sir?"

"Parker, if you don't mind, I'm going to deploy you in FAB One. I don't have a way to transport you quickly, but I'd like you on the water. Hang about two hundred miles off the coast of California."

"Yes, Sir!" Parker said, glad to be of use.

"As for Kyrano, he'll be manning Base, but his primary objective will be to keep in contact with Tin-Tin at all times so we know what's happening over on their end. I'll also set him up with our monitoring equipment. Once we have a fix on all subs in the Pacific, we can start eliminating them."

"In contact with Tin-Tin?" Ruth questioned. "How?"

"With his mind," Penny replied, as if it was the silliest question she'd ever heard. "What shall we do once we've delivered Ruth to hospital?"

Jeff's face quirked into a half-grin at Penelope's use of his mother's first name. "_We're_ going after Gordon and Tin-Tin."

A smile spread across Penny's face as she replied slowly, "F...A...B."

03:58:17

In spite of her best efforts, Megan Crawford wasn't allowed in the hospital's operating theatre, but watched from the viewing window as the staff struggled to bring Alan's blood pressure down and stabilize his heart rate. As they cut away what was left of his uniform and began to clean his skin, Megan breathed a sigh of relief.

"Doesn't look like his burns are as bad as we originally thought," she said to herself.

"Heart rate's dropping!"

"Ten cc's of dobutamine, _stat_!" the doctor ordered.

A nurse injected the drug into Alan's arm, but his pulse continued to decline.

"He's having trouble breathing, we need to intubate!"

"Get the paddles!"

"BP 91 over 42 and dropping!"

"Hold off, I need to get this tube in!"

The others raised their hands and waited for the doctor to insert a breathing tube into Alan's throat. A quick glance at the monitors showed he wasn't responding well.

"It's in!" the doctor announced.

One nurse moved to hook him up to the ventilator as another nurse brought over the atrial fibrillation machine. A third nurse cleaned Alan's legs, groin and stomach, while others applied gel medication to the burns to relieve pain and decrease the blistering. A sudden distinct mechanical whine froze them all in mid-action.

"I've lost the pulse! He's flatlining!"

"Ready AF!" A nurse placed two electrode patches on the skin directly above Alan's heart. "Stand clear!"

Everyone backed away as the doctor pressed a button. Alan's body lurched off the bed before thumping back down. The steady alarm and telltale line did not waver.

"Another ten cc's of dobutamine!"

A nurse elbowed in and jabbed Alan's arm with a syringe.

"Ready AF! Raise two points!"

She raised the voltage on the machine.

"Clear!"

Everyone stood down. The doctor pressed the button, and again Alan's body vaulted into the air, then pounded back down onto the bed. Still no heartbeat.

"Come on, Alan!" Megan shouted, palms against the viewing window. "You can do it! You can _do_ it!" She thought of the bravery of this organization's members, an organization she was so honored to be a fringe member of. "He can't die. He just _can't_!"

"Ready AF! Raise three points! Ready? Clear!"

Alan's body arched upward one last time. Megan had to strain to see beyond the nurses to where the monitor hung above the bed. When at last it came into view, her eyes widened...

03:59:58

03:59:59

04:00:00


	5. Hour Five

**Hour Five**

_The following takes place between 4:00 a.m. and 5:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

04:00:58

Megan was jarred from the moment by an insistent beeping. At first she didn't know where it was coming from, but eventually figured out it was the watch given to her by the dark-haired member of International Rescue. She pulled it out of her pocket, but realized she hadn't a clue how to answer it.

"How do I get whoever it is to come in?" she wondered aloud. Suddenly that same man's face appeared on the watch dial. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Hello."

"Hi, Dr. Crawford."

"You...know my name."

"Yes. F--Erm--I checked the files to get it. How's Alan?"

Megan breathed a loud sigh of relief as she turned her attention back to the action beyond the viewing window. "He seems okay. I'll get the doctor to brief me in a few minutes."

"What aren't you telling me?"

Megan's eyes turned back to his. "They almost lost him." Scott closed his eyes for a moment. When he reopened them, he saw her watching him, concern etched upon her face. "But I think he's good for now. I'll let you know as soon as I hear from the doctor."

"I'm bringing other members of International Rescue to the hospital. Once we arrive, I'd like you back at the lab to assist Brains. He's verified UH-3 as the component used in these bombs, and they're trying to figure a way to disarm the ones Acronym's planning to drop on Southern California. Just in case."

"Okay, I'll keep a lookout."

"Thank you, Doctor."

"It's just Megan."

He smiled wearily. "Fine. And my name's Scott."

"Right. See you after a bit."

"Call me immediately if anything changes."

"I will."

04:05:01

Virgil, who'd returned to the Mole, was on his way to the White House. Without Firefly to assist, he and Scott had determined the best way to get inside the ring of fire that still burned steadily around it was to take a handful of emergency personnel down in the gigantic drilling machine. Brains had been given the task of piloting the Laser Beam Equipment, or "Elbee," as they called it. He would take on using the vehicle's powerful laser beam to cut away obstructions elsewhere so rescues could be carried out.

At the same time, Brains was on an open channel with Dr. Godfrey and the two International Rescue agents/scientists who'd gone back to the lab in Arlington to begin working on a solution for neutralizing UH-3. Brains would work the problem with them remotely, while Dr. Crawford would join them there as soon as Jeff, Penny, Scott and Ruth arrived at the hospital. Ten other agents were currently using a large crane along with several other pieces of equipment to hoist Firefly out of the area and back to Thunderbird 2 as quickly as possible to avoid potential breaches of security.

Before leaving, Scott reconnoitered where all the other operatives were, updated his charts and set about the task of ensuring people were deployed where they were needed. He was understandably upset by Megan's statement that they'd almost lost Alan, but also greatly relieved to hear he'd survived. And he was glad he'd be seeing him soon.

Given what some of the agents on the perimeter of the Danger Zone were saying, Scott was secretly glad Mobile Control had been set up further in. Apparently people were beginning to gather, and some rather unfriendly sentiments toward International Rescue were being expressed in no uncertain terms. Fortunately for the agents, however, no one outside the organization _knew_ they were International Rescue. So they were, at least for the moment, safe from harm.

Now, as he raced Thunderbird 1 toward Los Angeles, he found it difficult to concentrate on flying her...fortunately, he'd been doing it for so long it was second nature. He was leaving Virgil out there in the thick of things, as well as Brains. His mind drifted to Gordon and Tin-Tin, both of whom were being held by that madman Acronym. And Alan, in the hospital fighting for his life. Everyone, it seemed, was in danger.

Little did Scott Tracy know that the danger was just beginning.

04:09:47

Gordon, who'd been lying on his back, rolled to the side and propped his head up on his hand. "How do you do that, anyway?"

"Do what?"

"You know, the stuff with Kyrano being able to read you. You feeling him."

"Well, my father comes from a long line of Practitioners. Being able to read me is an ability he has, and one that I have most likely inherited. But my blood is more diluted, so I don't have nearly his capabilities."

"Capabilities?"

Tin-Tin rolled over on her side, propping her head up on her hand as well. "Yes, such as being able to mentally connect with another mind, to ascertain how they're feeling, what thoughts they're thinking. Things like that."

"Oh. Wow. And, uh...you can't do that?"

Tin-Tin laughed in spite of their rather dire situation. "No, Gordon, I can't. Why, are you worried I might find out something about you that you don't want anyone to know?"

Had she been able to see him, she would've caught the slight blush that appeared on his cheeks. "No, 'course not," he replied, his voice light. "Just wondering."

She sighed. "They must be doing _something_. I just wish we knew what."

"Well, Kyrano'll probably let you know, don'cha think?"

She sighed. "Yes, you're right. I'm certain he will. I just don't like having to wait around here for someone _else_ to decide our fates."

Gordon's mind began to work the problem. He came to his feet and began pacing back and forth across the room.

"What are you doing, Gordon?"

"Thinking Tin-Tin. Thinking."

"About what?"

"I'm gonna figure us a way out of here."

04:17:30

Los Angeles International Airport was buzzing. More so than usual. Abandoning his usual position as "First Man on the Scene," Ned Cook had taken on the role of Master Organizer. He found a spot to set up within Unity Airline's Horizon Club, which LAX had closed temporarily to assist International Rescuees in their efforts. Once there, group members would be given a debriefing as to their role in helping International Rescue.

Finding these people and getting them to the proper location was not, however, as easy a task as one might think. For starters, Southern California had been placed on the highest state of alert possible thanks to the threats made by Acronym. This had caused mass panic, so typical in situations such as these. Great hordes of people crowded LAX and every other airport, train station and bus terminal in the area. The freeways were jammed.

Ned, having covered several large stories from Los Angeles International Airport throughout his career, had become quite good friends with both the Transportation and Security Administration's top man and the head of Unity Airline's management. As such, he'd been able to finagle the use of several of their smaller aircraft to transport the Rescuees to different locales throughout Southern California.

The Ground Security Coordinator and head of Airport Police had their hands full with the crowds, so they truly couldn't be of much help. Once Ned got each person or family to the Club, it would be a matter of figuring out who was going where, and how to keep the press from interfering and discovering their plan of action. _And_ how to keep them from finding out their connection to International Rescue, period.

That was where Ned came through again. His knowledge of how the media got wind of big stories like this almost completely ensured his ability to keep the whole thing quiet. And the desperate folks trying to escape the state were so focused on leaving they hadn't a care for the trickle of nondescript Average Joe's who were actually coming _in_ to the airport.

Now, as Ned sat at a table inside the Club that he'd commandeered, he looked over his laptop computer screen, upon which a constant feed of his organization's passenger names, airlines and flights was coming through. While half of his brain was keeping up with flight information, the other half was checking people in and assigning them to locations as per the plan he and Jeff Tracy had worked out. It would be quite some time before the majority of the Rescuees arrived, but already Ned was feeling the pressure.

After all, International Rescue had saved his life. And the lives of all these people who were now arriving with their loved ones. It was their chance to pay them back. This was the biggest thing Ned Cook had _ever_ done. And he couldn't fail those great men who needed him now. He _wouldn't_.

04:29:59

"Jeff, how much longer 'til we're at the hospital?"

He smiled, raising his eyebrows as he stole a sideways glance at Ruth. "Mother, do you remember a certain someone telling me that if I asked 'Are we there yet?' one more time she was going to stop the car and make me walk the rest of the way?"

"Jefferson Tracy, are you threatening to make me _drop_ to earth like a stone in order to see my grandson?"

"Of course not, Mother. I'll give you a parachute."

Penny gasped softly. "Jeff!" But Ruth and her son were laughing together, and Penny frowned in consternation. Heavens, if she'd _ever_ spoken to her parents in such a fashion, the outcome would have been much more severe than laughter.

"Really, Mother, we're only just over 20 minutes out now. We'll be there before you know it."

"All right, all right," Ruth muttered, wiping tears from her eyes.

"Well, I never," Penny said softly. "You two never cease to amaze me."

Ruth looked over her shoulder at her. "Penelope, my dear, to quote good Kansas folk, you ain't seen nothin' yet!"

Scott, listening to the banter in Thunderbird One's Lounge from his spot in the cockpit, couldn't help but laugh. His grandmother was right. Penny hadn't seen _anything_ yet.

04:31:03

Kyrano continued to watch the news coverage about Washington, D.C. and kept in regular contact with John on the space station. He also allowed part of himself to hover with his daughter, wherever she was beneath the sea. He could feel her quite clearly, and she felt calm, if somewhat perturbed. He smiled. Only Tin-Tin would feel annoyance instead of fright in the face of such danger. He was glad she was not alone, however. Gordon would take care of her, as best he could. For his presence, Kyrano was grateful.

But he began to get the feeling that something was wrong. On some level, he felt very strange. It was not an unfamiliar feeling, but it somehow confused him. And then suddenly he realized the connection with his daughter had been severed. Trying desperately to re-establish it, he jumped when the vidphone behind him rang. He turned to face it, trying to keep his mind steady, knowing full well who it would be. He opened the line and said, "Hello?"

Voice Only was selected. And it was the same voice from before. "You're not Jefferson," he said.

"No. I am not. What can I do for you?"

"I will _only_ talk to Jeff Tracy!"

"Please hold the line for one moment."

Kyrano placed Acronym on hold and opened a channel to Jeff's com watch. "Mr. Tracy, this is Kyrano. Please come in."

"I'm here, Kyrano. What's happening?"

"I have Acronym on the video phone, Sir. He will speak only with you. I thought perhaps it would not be wise to state you are unavailable."

"Good point. Okay, can you patch us through?"

"I can do that for you, Father," came John's voice. "Gimme a sec."

Within moments, John had patched Jeff's Lounge vid phone directly through to his watch. Jeff quickly motioned for both Penny and his mother to remain silent.

"This is Jeff Tracy," he said.

"Ah, there you are. I was beginning to worry when you didn't answer your line."

"Well, I'm here now. What do you want?"

"I want to know what you're doing about our little agreement."

"I've made no agreement with you."

"You should reconsider that position, Jefferson. Especially considering that I now have two hostages. You _were_ aware of that, were you not?"

"You told a television station, how could I have missed it?"

Acronym laughed. Jeff thought hard. Did he want to let the man know they were on to his identity? What purpose could it serve? The only result Jeff could see at this point would be the quick deaths of Tin-Tin and Gordon. No, best to keep that to himself until they had a better grasp of the situation.

"Well, then, I suspect you are most likely trying to come up with a plan to foil what I have in store for you and for Southern California. Mark my words, Jefferson: if you attempt to do anything but what you have been instructed to do, that is, reveal your identities to the rest of the world, your son and Kyrano's daughter will die."

Jeff's face hardened. His eyes were on fire.

"Not to mention the millions of innocent people in California," Acronym added. "And you'd better do it soon, Tracy. People out there are starting to say some _nasty_ things about you."

Opening his mouth to reply, Jeff didn't get the chance as Acronym closed down. "That sonofabitch," he swore softly. "What I don't get is why he doesn't just tell the world himself! He obviously knows everything about us. It doesn't make sense. Damn him for putting Gordon and Tin-Tin in danger for no reason."

"Don't worry, Jeff," Penny said, hoping to calm him. "They're still all right. They'll _be_ all right."

Jeff raised his watch to his face once more. "Kyrano, are you still sensing Tin-Tin?"

There was no reply.

"Kyrano?"

Silence.

"Oh, God," Jeff moaned, his eyes darkening. "Not now. Please not now."

04:45:47

Tin-Tin blanched, gasping at the jolt of pain that shot through her head.

"What is it?" Gordon asked, making his way to her side.

"Father," she breathed, tears coming to her eyes.

"Kyrano? What? What's wrong?"

"He's...he's left me. I--I can't feel him any longer."

"Maybe he's just busy doing something else."

"No," Tin-Tin whispered. "It doesn't feel that way. He's just...gone."

04:48:12

"Scott?"

"Yes, Father."

"As soon as we drop Grandma in Arlington, I need you to high-tail it back to the island as fast as your engines will go."

"What's going on?"

"We've lost contact with Kyrano."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know, son. But you, Penny and I need to get back there ASAP."

"F.A.B."

"I'll have Mother send Dr. Crawford to the laboratory in a cab. Brains will join them and figure out how to stop those UH-3 bombs."

"I wonder what's happened to Kyrano."

"Right now, I have no idea. But I've got a bad feeling. A _very_ bad feeling."

04:51:10

From the Grand Chamber in the bowels of his majestic Malaysian temple, a man known to the world as arch-criminal the Hood stood with arms spread wide. Without a word, he slowly brought them together until his hands rested palm-to-palm. In front of him on a raised dais, beaded curtains swished closed, hiding a bronze statue behind their glittering shroud. The Hood grimaced, his eyes glowing with anger.

"Who does this _Acronym_ think he is?" the evil man spat, turning to walk to a nearby table. "He thinks _he_ will have all the glory for unmasking International Rescue?"

Kyrano, though more difficult to get through to this time, had served him well. And whoever this Acronym was, there was no way the Hood was going to let him continue with his plot to unmask International Rescue. He felt their secrets were his and his alone. He had worked so long to own them, and now someone else was threatening to take his place as the one who brought them to their knees. He headed for his dressing room. Now was the time for action. Honestly, for that simpleton to think he could so easily take from the Hood what was rightfully his. The nerve!

"Fool!" he barked as maidservants came to disrobe him. "He shall _pay_ for this. He shall _not_ prevail!"

04:53:04

"This is Thunderbird One on broadcast. We're landing at the hospital now. I'll be in touch as soon as we're on our way again."

Scott was having a very hard time with this. All he wanted to do was get out of his Thunderbird and go see his baby brother. But if Kyrano wasn't responding to his father's hails, it could mean very menacing things...things which should not be left alone. In the end, he knew it was best to stay put and continue trying to get through to the island. If only he could get his mind to stop wandering to all the possible horrors that might await them there...

04:55:56

Kyrano didn't move a muscle. This last attack by his half-brother had been worse than any to come before it. The Hood had probed so deeply into his mind, so completely overtaken him, that his body began shutting down in an effort to protect the man from the mental invasion. Continued cries trying to rouse him came over the speakers placed here and there throughout the Lounge, but Kyrano did not hear. He could not. For as each second ticked away, as each grain of sand passed through the hourglass, so did his heart slow.

He could not raise his consciousness, could not locate his daughter's mind.

And slow.

He couldn't make his voice work, couldn't get a single word to form upon his lips.

And slow.

_I will not allow this to take me._

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

_I cannot leave them now. They need me too much._

Ba...bump. Ba...bump. Ba...bump.

_They don't even know that he knows. They don't know the Hood knows. They...they don't..._

Ba...ba...bump.

Ba...ba...ba...bump.

Bump...

04:59:58

04:59:59

05:00:00


	6. Hour Six

**Hour Six**

_The following takes place between 5:00 a.m. and 6:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

05:00:02

Jeff and Ruth raced into the hospital, leaving Scott and Penny waiting in Thunderbird 1. Their inquiries as to the International Rescue member brought in led them to a fourth-floor operating ward. Jeff recognized Dr. Crawford immediately. She was speaking with a physician in full surgical gear. Ruth stood by the viewing window, where she could see nurses dressing Alan's wounds and taping down various needles and tubes inserted into his body. Tears sprang to her eyes.

The surgeon turned away from Megan and stepped back into the operating room as Jeff strode over. "Dr. Crawford. Thank you for being here for Alan."

Megan turned and smiled when she saw who was speaking. "Hi, Mr. Tracy. Good to see you again," she said, shaking his hand. "Although I do wish it were under better circumstances."

"As do I. And please, call me Jeff. That way I can pretend I'm not old enough to be your father."

Megan laughed. She'd forgotten what a decent sense of humor this man had. The three days she'd spent in his company two years ago in Brazil had been enjoyable. They'd met by chance at a restaurant, where she'd recognized him from his mission to the Moon. They'd gotten to chatting that evening and had spent several hours over the next two days together, talking about what Megan did, about her family, her background. It was only on the afternoon of the third day, right before he was due to leave Brazil that she found out why he'd been grilling her so much. He wanted her to become an agent for International Rescue. She had never been more pleased or honored, and had readily agreed.

And now, even in the least pleasant of circumstances, he maintained the charming persona she remembered so well. She turned toward the surgeon, who was just returning. "Jeff, this is Dr. Gray. He's the one who saved Alan's life."

Jeff stuck his hand out to the fifty-ish salt-and-pepper-haired man standing before him as Megan headed for the ladies room. "I can't thank you enough for what you've done, Doctor. Could you please give me the details?"

It wasn't really a question. It was more like an order. Dr. Gray cocked his head in surprise. Whoever this man standing before him was, he guessed it was a man used to being in command. And since the life he'd just saved belonged to a member of International Rescue...well, the good doctor was no dummy. Still and all, there were rules to be followed.

"I need to know your relationship to the patient. I can't disclose confidential information to just anyone."

Jeff closed his eyes. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. The doctor probably already had an idea as to his involvement with International Rescue at this point, but if he so much as had an inkling about his true relationship to Alan, it could pose problems. He turned to his mother. She understood immediately and pulled her wallet from her purse.

"Dr. Gray, my name is Ruth Tracy. Your patient's name is Alan Tracy. I'm his grandmother."

The doctor looked at Ruth's ID card and nodded before turning to Jeff. "And you, Sir?"

His face like stone, Jeff said, "I'll wait here."

Dr. Gray nodded. "Yes, of course. Mrs. Tracy, if you'll follow me to the waiting room just down the hall, we can discuss the patient's condition."

When they'd reached the security of the glass-walled waiting room, Ruth asked, "What are they doing to him now?"

"They're preparing him to be moved to Intensive Care, ma'am."

Jeff waited near the OR. Megan soon emerged from the ladies room and approached him. "Where'd everybody go?"

"The doctor is speaking to..." Jeff hesitated. Megan knew his full name, but not Ruth's or Alan's last names. "He's speaking to my companion regarding Alan's condition."

Megan frowned as she looked down the hall toward the waiting room. Why on Earth would Jeff have sent the woman to speak with the doctor and not gone himself?

"Please have a seat," Dr. Gray said, doing the same. "Now, whatever it was that happened to this man out there, it caused severe 3rd degree burns, but only over about 5 of his body. Luckily for him, the uniform he wore took the brunt of the heat. Must be some kind of special material. At any rate, I cannot be certain why his blood pressure dropped and his heart stopped earlier, but there is one possibility."

"Alan's heart...stopped?" Ruth asked, biting her lower lip.

"Yes, I'm afraid it did. We had to intubate him to get him breathing, and we had to use the atrial fibrillator to restart his heart."

"What's the possibility you spoke of?" she asked.

"Well, to be frank, I think young Alan took a severe blow to the head. It's possible that affected the automatic functions of his body, things like breathing and heartbeat. We'll go ahead and do some brain scans to determine if there _is_ any damage."

Ruth came to her feet. "Can I see him?"

"Five minutes. And don't get in the nurses' ways."

She nodded and headed back to where Alan was still being prepared for the ICU. Noting that the doctor had gone the opposite direction, she motioned for Jeff to join her.

He entered the room musing that it wasn't the first time he'd been to a hospital to visit an injured son. Gordon had by far suffered the most frightening and severe injury to date, but it never failed to make his heart skip several beats when _any_ of his boys were injured. Ruth quietly explained what the doctor had told her.

He was relieved to see that, as Dr. Gray had said, the terrible burns Alan had received were few and far between. His chest seemed to be rising and falling normally, and a look at the heart rate monitor told him something he already knew: his son was a fighter. He reached down and grabbed one of Alan's hands, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Then he bent down so that his lips were near Alan's ear and said, "I can't be here for you right now, son. But Grandma is here. She'll stay with you until you're better. Don't worry about anything. We'll find Gordon and Tin-Tin and we'll see they're brought home safe and sound. You concentrate on getting better so you can be there when they return." He drew back and stared at his unconscious son's face. Then he spoke once more. "I love you, Alan."

Standing in the doorway to keep watch for Dr. Gray, Ruth couldn't help the tears that escaped her eyes as she listened to her son's words. When the doctor rounded the far corner, she hurried to Alan's bedside.

"Jeff, you have to leave."

He nodded. "Take care of him for me, Mother." Taking one last look at his son, he turned walked out of the room.

05:13:59

"Dammit, there _has_ to be a way outta this!" Gordon's frustration was more than apparent. Tin-Tin had never quite heard her unflappable housemate sound so...annoyed.

"If we're underwater, that probably means we're in a submarine. And judging by the pressure on my eardrums, I'd say we're fairly deep."

"Right," replied Gordon, who'd given up pacing and now sat against the far wall, knees tucked under his chin. "And that's the problem. We can't just escape through a hatch. If we're deep enough, the pressure would kill us as soon as we hit the water."

Still unwilling to let him stay out of her personal space for too long, Tin-Tin inched her way over and leaned on the wall next to him. "Depressurization Diving Suits."

"DDS's? But how do we know if they have 'em?"

"We don't," she sighed. "We also don't know where they'd keep them if they do."

"I know," he replied confidently. "I know _exactly_ where they'd keep them."

"There's still the door," she reminded him gently.

"Tin-Tin?" he said, a smile on his face. "Prepare yourself. I'm about to play magician." Halfway across the room, Gordon nearly jumped out of his skin when she gasped. He whirled around to face the sound and said her name. When she didn't reply, he retraced his steps, hands low in front of him to feel for her so he wouldn't step on her. "Tin-Tin?"

"Gordon...Gordon..." Her breath was uneven and her voice made it sound like she was in pain.

He knelt next to her, one hand on her shoulder, the other on her leg. "What is it?"

"Oh, Gordon, it's Father!" she cried, unable to keep the tears at bay.

"What about him?"

"He's...he's dying!"

05:20:00

"Have you heard from Kyrano?"

"No, Father, I haven't been able to raise him."

"All right, Scott, I'm strapped in. Let's get back to Base."

"F.A.B. Here we go."

Thunderbird One's VTOL rocket fired and she lifted effortlessly into the air. Scott increased speed until he was doing well over 7,500 miles per hour. When at last she was cruising along, he decided it was time to ask.

"Father? How's Al?"

"I was just telling Penny. He's stable for now, son. They...they almost lost him. His heart stopped." Scott shook his head. He could hear the pain in his father's voice. "He's intubated and on a ventilator. IV's, feeding lines, the usual. They were about to move him to Intensive Care when I left. Grandma's not allowed to stay in there with him, but she's going to hover outside."

Scott chuckled. "That sounds like Grandma. What about Dr. Crawford? Did she get off to the lab okay?"

"Yes. When I explained the situation to Dr. Gray, the doctor who saved Alan's life, he insisted on the hospital transporting her there in an ambulance so she could arrive as quickly as possible."

"All right. I'll radio Brains and let him know. They think they've got a line on how to stop those UH-3's. But from the sounds of it, Thunderbird 3's gonna have to launch."

"Thunderbird 3?"

"Yes. Whatever they want to make has to be dropped into the atmosphere."

"Scott? Patch me through to Brains."

"F.A.B. This is Thunderbird One calling Brains. Come in, Brains."

05:24:04

"This is, uh, Brains. Go ahead."

"Brains, this is Jeff."

"Hello, Mr. Tracy. Uh, how's A-Alan?"

"They're moving him to the ICU. He gave us a bit of a scare, but they've stabilized him."

"That's, uh, good news."

"Now what's this Scott's telling me about Thunderbird 3 and Southern California?"

"Well, Sir, uh, we may have discovered a method by which the outer layer o-of the devices can be kept from dissolving, which would mean the, uh, UH-3 would still be too protected to e-explode upon impact."

"How's the device work?"

"Y-You see, the UH-3 is kept protected within a thin shell made o-of polystelenium. Rate o-of descent e-ensures the shell will, uh, buckle a-as soon as it makes contact with a, uh, solid o-object."

"And what about this outer layer?"

"That's the, uh, most difficult part of the whole thing. Doctors Godfrey, Otayuki, Payne and I think we may have determined how the protective outer layers of the devices are shed during their descent through the, uh, rarified a-atmosphere."

"What's the problem?"

"We don't have the, uh, necessary ingredients to create what Thunderbird 3 will need to drop on them as they descend."

"Right, Brains. Where can you get what you need?"

There was a moment's hesitation before he replied, "My laboratory."

"Dammit!" Jeff swore.

"And, uh, it's not something I can do alone. I-I'll need extra hands and know-how."

Jeff took a deep breath. No matter what happened, things just got more and more complicated. "Scott, how far have we come?"

"We're ten minutes out."

"All right. Turn around and pick up Brains and the other scientists."

"F.A.B."

"Brains, Thunderbird One's turning around. We'll be with you in about ten minutes. Make sure Dr. Crawford's with you. It'll be cramped in the cargo space, but it's the fastest way to get you home."

"Yes, Sir, uh, Mr. Tracy. We'll be ready."

"Jeff, do you think it's wise to bring the other scientists to Tracy Island?"

"I don't know if it's wise, Penny, but at this point I see very little in the way of alternatives."

Penny nodded silently as she watched Jeff out the corner of her eye. His fists clenched and unclenched in barely concealed irritation. "Jeff?" she said softly.

He turned to look at her, his expression unreadable.

"Are you all right?"

"Honestly?"

"Always."

"No. I'm not. I swear, Penny, if anything else goes wrong, I don't know what I'm going to do."

Penny unbuckled herself and rose gracefully to her feet. She crossed to Jeff and crouched down to be eye-level with him. Laying her delicate hands over his, she said, "It will be all right, Jeff. You must believe that."

He knew she was trying to encourage him, but Jeff was starting to doubt the possibility of success. Sure, Alan was okay...at least for the moment. But they still didn't know exactly where Tin-Tin and Gordon were, or _how_ they were. Then there was Kyrano, for whose life he feared. Thunderbird 3 having to launch meant Scott wouldn't be on the ground to help. With Brains winding up back at Base lab, that left Virgil as the only senior International Rescue operative in the field.

Full of doubt, Jeff squeezed her hands, looked into her eyes and said, "I wish I could believe that right now, Penny. I wish I could."

05:38:57

"Father! No!"

"Tin-Tin!" Not knowing what else to do, Gordon allowed himself to hold her as she launched into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. He smoothed her hair with one hand and rocked back and forth slowly. "Oh...Gor-Gordon...he's...oh, _Father_!"

"Is he alone? What's happened to him?"

"I...I don't...know!" she cried. "His heart...his heart...I can feel it...it's so slow. Gordon...it's barely beating!"

_Think, Gordo, think! There **has** to be something!_ And just like that, it came to him. "Tin-Tin...you said you didn't have your father's capabilities."

She just shook her head, soaking his sweatshirt with her tears.

"How do you know that? Have you ever...have you ever tried?"

Lifting her head, she sniffled as she thought about that. Well, truthfully, she'd never really _tried_ to do what her father could do. She'd given it half-hearted attempts in the past, but had inherited her mother's impatience, or so Kyrano always told her. This meant that she couldn't sit still long enough to even try and bring her mind to the level that Kyrano insisted she must in order to reach out over distances, over time and space, over the very fabric of the universe.

"Not really," she finally replied.

"Try it."

"Try what?"

"I don't know. I don't know how it works. But maybe...maybe if you, well, if you _think_ about his heart beating faster, maybe it'll happen?"

She wiped the tears from her face. "I'm not sure I can."

"You have to try. He's your father. You have to try!"

Nodding, she moved out of Gordon's arms and seated herself cross-legged on the floor. Folding her hands palm-to-palm in front of her, she took several deep breaths.

"What can I do?"

"I don't know. Stay here with me. Right here. I may need to draw from your energy."

"Okay." Gordon moved to sit in front of her. He crossed his legs Indian-style and laid his hands on his thighs. "Now what?"

"Close your eyes," she commanded, her voice suddenly steady. "Take a deep breath in through your nose. Hold it to the count of eight and release through your mouth."

He did as requested.

"Do it again. With each count of eight, with each breath you release, picture all your cares escaping your body. Feel yourself relax."

He nodded and continued to inhale, count to eight and exhale. Inhale. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8. Exhale. To his surprise, it was actually working. In spite of the fact that they were being held hostage, in spite of the fact that there seemed to be no escape, in spite of everything, Gordon felt himself relaxing.

"Yes, that's it," Tin-Tin said softly. "Now we must think of Father. We must concentrate on finding his mind. It will be difficult, Gordon. He is almost gone." On that last word, she choked back a sob. But she knew she had to keep her mind on what she was doing. She could only pray she and Gordon together would be strong enough to keep Kyrano alive until he could get help.

05:44:27

Things were going much more smoothly for Ned Cook than he'd anticipated. Over one thousand members of International Rescuees and their families had arrived. He'd already sent three planeloads of people to Barstow, Palm Springs and San Diego. A message from Jeff Tracy had advised him to appoint one or two people in each group as leaders. Before too much time had passed, Mr. Tracy said, those leaders would need to take charge of each group and explain instructions that would come after a few hours.

Meanwhile, Los Angeles International Airport was bursting at the seams with panicked Southern Californians who were trying anything they could to get out of the state. There had even been two attempted hijackings by overly desperate individuals, but those had been stopped thanks to the Airport Police. Ned just shook his head sadly as one of the monitors in the Horizon Club showed the chaos beyond. People were getting hurt, being trampled by others, doing things that they would never do under normal circumstances.

Unable to stand the self-imposed carnage of these people any longer, Ned did something he wasn't sure he _should_ do. But that had never stopped him before, he thought, as he recalled that first run-in he'd had with Thunderbird One so long ago. He'd wanted his story, and footage of the great ship taking off. In spite of its pilot's insistence that he not take pictures, Ned went ahead and tried it anyway. He nearly laughed out loud as he remembered how Joe's film had been electromagnetically erased, and how incensed he himself had been. And now, here he was doing everything he could to help them _keep_ their secrets.

"It's ironic," he whispered as he brought a microphone up to his mouth. Pressing a button, he rang Unity Airlines' central office. "This is Ned Cook in the Horizon Club."

"Reading you, Cook."

"I want you to patch me through to the general PA."

"I don't think we can do that."

"Don't think you _can_ or don't think you _will_?"

"Why do you want widespread public address?" Before Ned even had a chance to respond, he heard another voice on Unity's end. After a short conversation, the person he'd been speaking to came back on the line. "All right, Mr. Cook. I'm patching you through now."

_God bless Ray Archer,_ Ned thought. It really did pay to know the head of Unity's management. _Okay, Ned. You need to save peoples' lives out there. Make this speech your best ever._

05:50:05

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Ned Cook. Could I please have your attention?" He watched the monitor and was pleased that his voice still had this effect on folks after so many years in the business. For they were stopping, and they were shutting their mouths. "You may know me from my long-running television show. You may also know me from my association with NTBS. Or, you may be familiar with the fact that my life was saved ten years ago by International Rescue."

Mentioning the world's most famous...and right now somewhat infamous...heroes stopped the public cold in their tracks. Their faces turned up toward the ceiling as they waited to hear what he had to say. "Since you're all here trying to get out of Southern California, I will assume you're aware of what's happened. Aware of the fact that International Rescue is facing complete ruin as we speak. Aware that Washington, D.C. has been laid to waste and that the same has been threatened upon this area."

Several heads nodded.

"I want you to listen to me, and I want you listen carefully. The more out of control you get, the more you risk taking your own lives without the help of the madman behind all this. Don't do his work for him. Don't let him change you from sensible people into people as crazy as he is. Now, I _know_ you want to get out of here. But if you do so in a calm and orderly fashion, you're more likely to get your wish than if you kill each other. Look at the person next to you. Do you know them? No? It doesn't matter. They have lives and families just like you do. They don't want to die any more than you do. They have a right to get out of here as much as you do. Would you kill your brother, your sister, your father, your mother, your children just to save your own life? Well all those around you _are_ your brothers and sisters. We are all members of the human race. And we're facing a crisis. Let's work _together_ to get out of it. Let's respect each other as fellow human beings. It isn't over 'til it's over."

Ned took a deep breath. He knew he couldn't say anything about what International Rescue was trying to do, for surely it would get back to Acronym somehow. So he decided to finish rather mysteriously, hoping it would be enough.

"And don't forget, Ladies and Gentlemen: there's always hope."

05:53:43

"Mole calling Mobile Control."

"Mobile Control here. Agent Fifty-Three speaking."

"53, I've just emerged from the White House. Or what's left of it, anyway. We found two survivors. One of them is the president."

"He's alive?"

"Yes. He's pretty beat up. They're loading him into the ambulance now. The other survivor is an as-yet unidentified female. She's unconscious, but not too bad off, I don't think. I'm gonna check out the caterpillars on The Mole, I thought one of 'em sounded funny. Work out where you need me next."

"Roger that, Mole. Contact me as soon as you're ready for deployment."

"F.A.B." Virgil exited the drilling machine and watched as the paramedics and firemen loaded President Grable and the woman into an ambulance and sped away. He was covered in soot and grime. "What I wouldn't give right now for a shower," he mumbled as he headed back to The Mole. He stopped for a moment and looked up at the wall of fire not twenty yards in front of him. While inside it, they'd discovered that a gas line had ruptured, apparently in a nearly perfect circle, around the perimeter of the White House grounds.

That's why they couldn't get the fire to go out. There were a handful of firemen trying to shut the gas off about a hundred yards due west, but so far they'd been unsuccessful. Virgil took his hat off and used it to wipe the sweat from his brow. First thing he'd do when he got back into The Mole was call up Scott in Thunderbird One. He desperately wanted to know how Alan was, and what was going on beyond the Danger Zone.

As he turned to head for the other side of the gigantic machine, six firefighters came running by, screaming and yelling at the top of their lungs. "Get back! Get back! It's gonna go! It's gonna blow!"

Virgil whirled around to look at the ring of fire. He heard a telltale hiss that turned quickly into a whine. He knew what that meant. "Oh, shit!" he yelled, turning tail. But before he could even lift a leg to run, it happened.

An entire ten-foot section of gas line in front of The Mole ripped apart. Gas whooshed through and, ignited by the already-burning fire, exploded in a deafening roar, sending forth a shockwave that slammed into Virgil's back like a speeding Mack truck. His feet left the ground instantly. Arms and legs flailing, he sailed through the air. Time moved in slow motion as he watched himself come nearer and nearer the ground...nearer and nearer to what was left of a torn up car. He cried out and tried to curl himself into a ball as he hurtled toward his destination.

As the flames behind him licked the tip of The Mole's massive bore, Virgil crashed into the cracked windshield of the car, smashing right through it. By the time the firemen who'd been running picked themselves up off the ground and made their way to the man from International Rescue, there was blood everywhere.

Virgil Tracy did not move.

05:59:58

05:59:59

06:00:00


	7. Hour Seven

**Hour Seven**

_The following takes place between 6:00 a.m. and 7:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

06:00:15

The Hood sneered as his cargo jet raced through the sky. He'd been in the air for just under thirty minutes. It had taken him a while to get the right contacts to give him the information he required to carry out his plan to stop Acronym from taking what he considered to be rightfully his. He had sparred with International Rescue since before they'd even begun operating. For over ten years he had coveted their secrets. He wasn't about to let some imbecile interfere now.

His text monitor signaled an incoming transmission. The Hood flipped a switch to download the message and discovered that his contacts had dug up quite a bit of information on the man calling himself Acronym. Namely, that he was Michael Canton II, Jeff Tracy's foremost nemesis, apparently both in public and private life, if his resources were accurate. "That explains why he wishes to cause his downfall," The Hood mused.

As much as they'd come up with, they still didn't have the one thing The Hood wanted: Acronym's current location. Then his radio buzzed, and he opened the line. "I am here," he said.

"Sir, we've picked something up that might be of some interest. A transmission coming from the Pacific."

"The Pacific? What was included in this transmission?"

"It was full of static, but we managed to hear the words _hostage_, _under there_ and _go deeper_."

The Hood frowned thoughtfully. Hostage...under there...go deeper. "Where in the Pacific did this transmission originate?"

"Eighteen degrees, ten feet south; one hundred seventy-eight degrees, one foot east."

"Very well. Were you able to locate transmission destination?"

"Negative. The transmission hit several satellites, and we lost the signal."

"Continue monitoring that frequency. I want to know the moment another message is intercepted."

"Yes, Sir."

"So, Acronym, you are either hiding aboard a submarine or keeping someone beneath the sea...the hostages perhaps? We shall find out soon enough."

The Hood knew that even though his cargo jet was faster than most with a top speed of 1,000 miles per hour, it would still be another three-and-a-half hours before he reached New Guinea. From there he would launch his new subjet. It was the fastest submersible in existence besides Thunderbird 4, and he was quite pleased with himself that he'd saw fit to steal it less than a month previous.

"Once I land, it will take no more than ninety minutes for me to reach these coordinates. And then, Acronym, if you _are_ on board the submarine, I shall see you do not escape with your life."

06:09:17

"How far are we out, Scott?"

"Just about an hour, Father, at present speed of seven.point.five thousand miles per hour."

"We need to get there faster. I want you to increase to ten thousand."

Scott's eyes widened. "Ten thousand? Father, you're in cramped quarters back there as it is. If I hit ten-k, I'll be scraping your teeth outta my engines for weeks!"

"Ten thousand, Scott. We'll be fine back here. We don't have a moment to lose."

Scott exhaled and shook his head. He knew his dad was right...time was of the essence. He just hoped everyone in the back could handle the G-force okay. "F.A.B. Increasing speed." He watched the air speed indicator as he opened the throttle wider and wider. "Seven.point.eight thousand. Eight.point.one thousand. Eight.point.four thousand. Everyone still okay?"

"Fine," replied Jeff.

"Eight.point.eight thousand. Nine.point.two thousand. Nine.point.seven thousand. Ten thousand. Maintaining speed."

"F.A.B."

Back in the cargo hold, which had been converted to a passenger cabin, Jeff and Penny held tightly to their seats while the remaining passengers sat squished together on the floor. Doctors Otayuki and Godfrey looked almost ready to vomit, as they were the only two facing the rear of the rocket. Brains and Megan looked none the worse for wear. Penny and Jeff, however, shared silent thoughts praying the two scientists _didn't_ unload their partially digested breakfasts all over them.

_Well,_ thought Jeff, _it'll be worth it if it means saving Kyrano's life._

06:15:20

"Aw, Jesus, Al, look at the glass!"

The fireman named Al, who'd helped Scott when Alan had been injured, grabbed the CB fastened to his coat. "Company 5 to Mobile Control!"

"Mobile Control. Agent 53 speaking."

"Listen, one of your guys is down and down bad! We need EMS here _now_!"

"Roger that. Dispatching immediately. What is your location?"

"The west side of the White House. And _step_ on it!"

"Will do. ETA of EMS to your location seven minutes."

"God, Aaron, should we move him?"

"I don't know. Hey, grab the kit outta the engine, will ya? We've gotta stop this bleeding."

"I'm on it!" Al called over his shoulder as he raced for a nearby fire engine.

"Tom, check his vitals! Brad, see if you can get into the front seat and support his weight. The more he sags like that, the more this glass'll cut into him."

As the two firefighters raced to obey their chief's orders, two others approached. "What about us, Aaron?"

"Fred, Dave, I want you to gather up a few of the others and see if you can't get that goddamned gas line shut off once and for all! This _never_ should've happened!"

"Yes, Sir!" they replied in unison as they ran off.

"Sonofabitch!"

"What is it, Aaron?" Al asked, running up with the med kit.

"Goddammit, Al. We promised Scott we'd look after him. We _promised_!"

Al placed a comforting hand on his chief's shoulder. "I know we did. And we're gonna do just like we said. I'm not leaving this man's side until I know for sure he's okay."

"Thanks, Al. I'm gonna hold you to that. I just feel like we failed him. Both of them."

"Pulse is a little slow," Tom broke in. "Breathing is shallow, but he's holding his own."

"I'm in place!" Brad called from the cramped space in the car's front seat.

"All right, Al, Tom, help me hold him steady. Yeah, that's right. Okay, Brad, use your back as a table. Lift him until I give the word."

"Right, here I go."

On hands and knees, Brad slowly lifted himself, his back against Virgil's back.

"Keep coming," Aaron said. Tom was holding Virgil's head, while Aaron and Al were at his legs. "Keep coming...keep coming..." Virgil's torso became more and more level with his head and legs as Brad kept going. "All right, that's it! Stop! That should keep the glass in place for now. Can you hold that position?"

"Sure thing!" Brad called.

"Come on, fella," Aaron said to Virgil's still form as he heard sirens approaching. "You're gonna make it. You _have_ to."

06:22:03

"Thunderbird One from Thunderbird Five. Come in, Scott."

"Reading you loud and clear, John."

"I've got Sir Jeffery on the line. Says he needs to speak to Penelope right away."

"All right, John, patch him through to her compact. Any luck getting Kyrano?"

"No, Scott, not yet. I keep trying at ten-minute intervals. Ned Cook's reported in from LAX. Seems he had to step up and give the folks at the airport some kinda hell so they'd stop trampling each other."

Scott chuckled. "Well, if anyone could do it, it'd be Ned. How are the Rescuees coming along?"

"Like clockwork, he says. He's got five whole planeloads of 'em gone already. Now they're just waiting for those planes to return so they can send out more."

"Good. I'll let Dad know. Meanwhile, I want you to keep an ear out for any communications coming from any place where there's no land."

"Why, Scott?"

"Kyrano seemed to think Tin-Tin and Gordon were underwater. If that's true, whoever's holding them _must_ be transmitting."

"I get you. I'll keep you updated."

"Thanks, John. Thunderbird One out."

"Wait! Scott!"

"What?"

"Hang on...it's Mobile Control. Agent 53. Oh, no. Oh, God, no."

"John, _what_?"

"Putting him through now."

Scott listened as Agent 53's husky and frantic voiced wafted through his speakers. "...repeat, this is Mobile Control. One of your men has been injured in a gas line explosion near the White House, he's unconscious. I repeat we have a man down near the White House."

The color drained from Scott's face. His hands and feet suddenly went numb. He tried to swallow the lump forming in his throat, but found he couldn't wet his mouth. Man down. Explosion. White House. "Oh, God," Scott choked. "No. Not Virgil. Please...not Virgil."

06:25:48

"This is Lady Penelope speaking."

"Ah, Penelope, there you are. I've been trying to ring you for an hour now."

"My apologies, Sir Jeffery. What can I do for you?"

"Our task force in the States has just taken over Canton Corporation's headquarters in Kansas City. Local police have been most helpful. We've searched the building, as well as all of Canton's homes. To no avail, I'm afraid."

"Then they haven't found him."

"No. However, I'm pleased to report that we _have_ located a woman who claims to be Michael Canton's personal secretary. She confirmed that he left yesterday afternoon in his private jet."

"Does she know what his destination was?"

"She can't be certain, but she did recall overhearing him speak of the Pacific Ocean."

Penny's eyes met Jeff's at exactly the same time. "Underwater," Jeff said. "The Pacific. That's _got_ to be where Gordon and Tin-Tin are being held."

Turning back to her compact, Penny said, "Sir Jeffery, I can't thank you enough for your assistance. You've given us a great advantage here."

"Always at your service, Lady Penelope. In the meantime, I shall keep you posted as to further developments."

"I do appreciate that, Sir Jeffery. Lady Penelope out." She closed the compact and stuffed it in between her leg and the edge of her seat. "Well, Jeff. Looks like we'll be using Thunderbird Four."

"It sure does, Penny. It sure does."

"Father--" Scott's cracked voice came over the air.

Jeff blanched. Something wasn't right. "Scott? What is it?"

"Dad...Dad..."

"What? Scott, what?"

"Virg...Dad, it's Virg. He's--he's been hurt...injured...in a gas line explosion. He's not conscious."

Jeff visibly deflated. No one could bear to look his way as his eyes filled with tears, much against his will. Not even Penny, who was trying her best to hide her own raw emotions. There was a long, tense silence until Jeff found his voice.

"How bad is it?"

Scott's voice wavered. "I-I don't know. Agent 53 says--" He stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. "He got thrown through air when a gas line exploded on the west side of the White House."

Jeff's voice was barely above a whisper when next he spoke. "How far out from Base are we?"

"Just under fifteen minutes, Dad."

Swiping a hand across his eyes, Jeff looked at each of his companions in turn until at last his eyes rested upon Penny's beautiful face. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as she finally made herself look right back at him.

"Dad, I--I have to go. I have to go back to him. It's _my_ fault he's there. I sent him there. I--I--"

Closing his eyes for a moment, Jeff took a deep breath, struggling to keep his anger and pain inside. Goddamn that Acronym. Only two of his five sons were still functional thanks to that bastard.

"Brains, how long you figure it'll take you five to whip up whatever concoction it is that needs to be taken up in Thunderbird 3?"

Clearing his throat, Brains replied, "I-I imagine we could have it ready in, uh, well, about four or five hours. Barring a-any setbacks, o-of course."

"Right. Scott, get us back to Base. We'll refuel and do a quick systems check. Then I want you back in Arlington to see to Virgil. As soon as you know he's out of danger, though, you get back to the island as fast as you can. You'll have four hours. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Father," Scott replied, the relief evident in his voice. "Thanks, Dad."

Jeff nodded, aware that his son couldn't see it. He'd always known of the extraordinary bond that existed between his two oldest sons. And he knew damn well if he didn't let Scott look in on Virgil, it wouldn't do any of them any good. Not to mention the fact that since Jeff himself couldn't go, he knew the next best thing was for his field commander to be there.

Penny smiled slightly as she took out a handkerchief and wiped her face dry. She mouthed the words _Hang on_ to him and was pleased when he nodded almost imperceptibly. He _was_ hanging on. But for how long? How much more of this insanity could he take? How much could _any_ man take?

06:37:10

They'd been at it for nearly an hour. Gordon had never felt more relaxed in his life. He repeated one thought over and over. _Keep beating. Keep beating. Keep beating._ Only one picture formed in his mind. Kyrano's heart beating steadily, healthily, beating rhythmically, as it should. Tin-Tin had said nothing in the last thirty minutes, but just as he was beginning to wonder if he should say something aloud, he felt a strange tingling in his head, a feeling that seemed to be coming from the right part of his brain.

And then he heard her. He actually _heard_ her. But he wasn't hearing her voice through his ears. No. He was hearing her _thoughts_. Although he'd never done anything like this before, he knew...he just _knew_. _Beat-ing stea-dy beat-ing stea-dy beat-ing stea-dy_ came the almost hypnotic rhythm of her words. He allowed his own inner voice to join hers and repeated in time with her, _Beat-ing stea-dy beat-ing stea-dy beat-ing stea-dy_.

She'd done it. Tin-Tin had reached that place where she never thought she'd be able to go. Gordon could only hope it was enough to save her father's life.

06:39:27

Dr. Gray rushed to where Ruth was curled up in a waiting room chair. She'd fallen asleep only a few minutes ago, and he hated to wake her, but--

"Ma'am? Ma'am, wake up."

Ruth's eyes popped open and she came to her feet swiftly, nearly knocking Dr. Gray over in the process. "What is it? Is it Alan? What's happened?"

"No, no, it's not Alan. It's...there's another member of International Rescue on the way. I just thought you'd want to know."

"What? Why would any of them be coming here?"

"He's injured, ma'am. Gas line explosion knocked him into a windshield. I'm on my way to the OR now to prep for his arrival."

Ruth nearly stopped breathing. It couldn't be. Alan was bad enough, but now... "Did...did they say what his uniform looked like? What color sash he was wearing?"

"Yes, ma'am. Yellow."

06:41:59

"Kyrano!" Jeff called out as he exited the elevator and raced into the Lounge. He stopped short in front of his desk, causing Penny to run right into his back. Brains and Scott narrowly avoided the pile-up. "_Kyrano_!"

Scott rushed to one side of him while Jeff went to the other. They lifted his upper body off the panel behind the desk and his head lolled forward. His lips had a bluish tinge to them and his breathing was so shallow Scott had to put his ear right up to his mouth to make sure it was coming at all.

"Father, he needs help."

Jeff lifted his old friend into his arms, noticing for the first time that he weighed almost nothing. It had never occurred to him how small Kyrano was. The man's very presence usually made it something that never even entered Jeff's mind. Now, as he carried him to the sofa and laid him gently upon it, he recognized a frailty he'd never seen before. "What happened to you?" he whispered.

"Jeff, we should get him to hospital," Penny said softly, placing her hand on his shoulder.

He nodded. "Scott..."

"Right. As soon as she's fueled up again, we'll take off. Brains, can you--?"

"Sure thing," Brains interrupted. "Dr. Otayuki, please come with me. We, uh, have to get Thunderbird One refueled and checked out."

The Asian man followed Brains back to the elevator as Megan stepped forward. Jeff looked up at her, the strain of these events showing clearly upon his face. "Can you tell what's wrong with him?"

"Well, from the color of his lips and the surrounding area, I'd say he's had a severe lack of oxygen. You'll notice there's a bluish color to his fingers as well. Let me get his pulse." Jeff rose and backed away; grateful for the small hand he felt slip into his. He looked down at Penny, whose eyes were fixed on Kyrano. Megan touched her first two fingers to Kyrano's neck. After a few seconds, she frowned.

"What is it, Megan?"

"It's his heart. I'm sure of it. His pulse is weak and arrhythmic. My best guess at this point is that he's suffered a heart attack."

"I didn't even know he _had_ a heart problem. What can we do?"

"Nitro. Do you have any nitro?"

Jeff raised his wrist. "Brains, this is Jeff. Nitro?"

"I-In the Sick Ward, Mr., uh, Tracy. Second cabinet to the, uh, left, Bay Two."

Scott was already out of the Lounge when he called over his shoulder, "I'll be right back."

Penny watched him go, and then turned to the three remaining scientists. "Since I know where the laboratory is, I shall take you there immediately."

They nodded, but Penny didn't move right away. She studied Kyrano's prone form, sad for his current state, nearly willing him to survive. "Will he live?" she asked, squeezing Jeff's hand.

Megan turned to face the lovely woman before her. "I honestly don't know, Lady Penelope."

Scott raced back into the room with a small bottle of nitroglycerin tablets. "Megan?" he said as he handed the bottle to her.

"Yes?"

"Would you ride along to Sydney with Kyrano, just to make sure...?"

Megan nodded as she opened the bottle, shook a tablet into her hand and placed it under Kyrano's tongue.

"Thanks," he half-smiled.

06:50:30

Gordon became aware of agitation. He wasn't sure at first _whose_ agitation. Then he realized it was coming from Tin-Tin. For some reason, her steady chant had ceased running through his mind.

After having been in the darkness for so long, his eyesight had adjusted enough to where he could just barely see the outline of her body in front of him. He said her name softly, but she didn't respond. Her anxiety had increased, however, he could feel it. "Tin-Tin, answer me."

Still nothing. He leaned closer, trying to get a look at her face. He could tell her eyes were closed, and she was as still as a statue. "Tin-Tin, come on, say something."

Having failed to get a response yet again, Gordon reached out and placed one hand upon each of her arms. He shook her gently. "Tin-Tin."

Suddenly her eyes popped open. Her mouth moved, and something that could only be described as a squeak emerged. She began to fall backwards, but he caught her, pulling her around so that she was lying in his arms, the back of her head against his chest.

"Tin-Tin, what's wrong? What's happening?"

He could tell she was trying to say something, but whatever it was, she couldn't get anything out but vague squawks. He suddenly felt something wet on his hand. When he reached up to touch her cheek, he found it damp. She was crying.

"Tin-Tin, please, tell me what's happening. What do I do?"

At this point, Gordon had no idea if what she was going through was a side effect of the meditation they'd been doing for Kyrano, or whether it was something altogether unrelated. He began rocking her back and forth, holding her tightly as she began to seize.

"Jesus, Tin-Tin, what's wrong? What's _wrong_?"

06:56:11

"What is wrong, my _niece_?" boomed a low, evil voice.

The Hood, having placed his jet on autopilot, sat in the cockpit staring straight out of the window in front of him. A malicious smile had formed upon his lips.

"Answer me! I know you can hear me! Where are you?"

_No!_ a voice cried out within his mind. _No!_

"You _will_ tell me where you are!" he ordered, the glow from his eyes increasing steadily.

_I...am...under...water!_ the voice responded. _On...a...submarine!_

"I see," The Hood said. "Interesting, Tin-Tin. _Very_ interesting." He blessed the Demon Goddess for his good fortune. Out of the blue, as he was en route to New Guinea, he'd suddenly felt his half-niece's mind. She was connecting to her father, for a reason he hadn't cared to ascertain before he'd taken over her mind for himself.

Could it be possible? Could she be on the same submarine he was seeking in an attempt to destroy Acronym? He laughed long and low at the prospect. "Well, it seems as though I may be able to kill _two_ birds with one stone. Or should I say...one _torpedo_."

06:58:51

Gordon struggled to hold her down, doing everything he could to keep her flailing arms and legs from hurting either of them. As it was, he was practically sitting on her as he straddled her body and protected her face from her own hands. The seizure lasted for at least two minutes, during which time Gordon also worked to keep her from choking on her tongue, as he knew often occurred in patients experiencing grand mals.

At last Tin-Tin gave one final, strangled cry before going limp beneath him. He shook her, calling out to her, begging her to wake up, but it was no use. No matter what he did, she wouldn't move. Her breathing and pulse were steady enough, but nothing he tried would work.

Not knowing what else to do, Gordon leaned against the wall, pulling her into a half-sitting position between his legs, her head resting on his shoulder, her back against his chest and stomach, her legs straight out in front of her. She whimpered once, and hope came back to him.

"Tin-Tin!" When she didn't answer, he said it again. "Tin-Tin!"

Still nothing. "God, what do I do?" he said. "I don't know anything about this stuff, I don't what to do! Tin-Tin!" he cried, pulling her tighter against him. "Please! Wake up! Wake up!"

But Tin-Tin would not be waking up any time soon.

06:59:58

06:59:59

07:00:00


	8. Hour Eight

**Hour Eight**

_The following takes place between 7:00 a.m. and 8:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

07:00:24

"This is Mobile Control to International Rescue."

"Receiving you, Mobile Control. Go ahead."

"Your friend, the one who was driving The Mole, he's been taken to the hospital."

"F.A.B."

"Uh...what should we do about The Mole? And about Thunderbird 2, for that matter?"

John thought for a moment. That was a very good question, and he hadn't a clue. There wasn't anyone left on the eastern seaboard that knew _how_ to operate either vehicle. "Hang on, Mobile Control. This is Thunderbird 5 calling Base."

"Here, John."

"Scott, what's going on back there?"

"Kyrano's had a heart attack we think, but he's holding his own. Dad and I just got him into Thunderbird 1. I'm taking him to Sydney, then I'm going back to Arlington to see about Virg."

"Oh, good, that'll solve the problem then."

"What problem?"

"Agent 53 reminded me that The Mole and Thunderbird 2 are just sitting there."

"Oh. I'd forgotten about them. All right, post a few agents around them as guards until I can get back there."

"F.A.B. And Scott...make sure you let me know how Virg is doing."

"I will, Johnny. I will."

07:05:05

Kyrano was strapped onto a foldout flat bed that had been secured to the floor in Thunderbird 1's cargo hold. Megan buckled herself into a nearby seat and said, "Okay, Scott, we're good to go back here."

"F.A.B. All systems are green. Beginning launch sequence."

Scott started the great rocket down its ramp. Slowly she inched lower and lower through the tunnel that would take her to her launch bay. When at last she reached the lower level, the platform upon which she sat moved into position beneath the swimming pool.

"Thunderbird 1, ready for take-off."

"F.A.B., Scott, you're clear to go."

"Thanks, Father."

"Scott..."

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Take care of Virgil for me, son."

Scott smiled slightly. "Don't worry, Father. I will."

He clicked the gears into place and the engines roared to life, smoke and flames billowing out from beneath as it lifted slowly into the air, slipping up past the opened pool and rising gracefully into the sky.

"Scott, it's Kyrano! He's having trouble here!"

"Hang on, Megan, I'm switching to horizontal."

"Scott--"

"Hang on, hang on..." Scott leveled the ship more quickly than usual, then said, "Okay, Megan, what's going on?"

"Hold on, I'm getting a look at him. He's having trouble breathing! Oh, God, he's _stopped_ breathing! Am performing CPR!"

"Keep him going, Megan, keep him going! We'll be there in less than 25 minutes!"

_Please don't die, Kyrano,_ Scott thought as he opened the Bird up to 7,500 miles per hour. _Please hold on. Just hold on._

Then his mind drifted to Virgil. _I'm coming, he thought. Wait for me, Virg. Be okay. Just be okay._

07:09:16

Ruth watched helplessly at the same window she'd seen Alan through not too long before. They'd wheeled Virgil past her so quickly; she'd barely gotten a glance at him. Now, as they lifted him from the gurney onto the operating table, her face went white and she grabbed at the railing in front of her.

"Dear God," she whispered.

For sticking up about seven inches out of Virgil's right leg was a triangular-shaped piece of glass. It was covered with blood, as was, it seemed, Virgil's entire body. She closed her eyes, unable to bear the sight.

A nurse cut away the uniform from his leg, leaving the tourniquet above the wound that Aaron and Al had applied in the field. Dr. Gray examined the affected area and whistled long and low. "This isn't gonna be easy," he said quietly. "Looks like the artery's been severed...tendons, ligaments...oh, boy."

He straightened and looked at the five nurses, who were working like busy bees, each at their own dedicated task. One was finishing the removal of Virgil's uniform; one was hooking him up to the monitor; one was laying out the surgical instruments; one was hooking up pints of blood for transfusions; and one was preparing to wipe him down, to enable Dr. Gray to determine the extent of all Virgil's injuries.

"All right, Team," Dr. Gray said, "we've got a member of International Rescue here. Let's save another life."

"Hear, hear!" "Have at it!" "You got it!" came the chorus of replies.

07:11:51

"Thunderbird 5 from Base."

"Thunderbird 5 here."

"John, were you able to tap into the scans I set Kyrano up with before...before his heart attack?"

"Yes, Father. Scan is still running, but so far all underwater vessels have checked out. I'll be hitting the grid near Base in a couple of minutes."

"All right, keep it running, son. I'm gonna check in with Brains that Thunderbird 4's ready for action."

"F.A.B."

"Come on, Penny," Jeff said, grabbing her hand and heading for the elevator.

"What are we going to do, Jeff?" she asked as the elevator made its descent.

"Well, how long has it been since you've been on a dive?"

"Last time I went diving was here with Gordon and Tin-Tin last June. What's the plan?"

"I don't really have one yet, Penny. All I know is that they might be on a submarine right here in our own back yard. And we have Thunderbird 4. I'm not just gonna sit around and wait for Canton's next move."

She smiled as they exited the elevator. "I would expect nothing less of you, Jeff Tracy."

07:13:16

Gordon jolted awake. It took a few minutes for him to remember where he was, and why there was a warm body against him. Somehow after he'd dozed off, he and Tin-Tin had moved position and were now lying on the floor. Her head rested on his shoulder, her breathing was steady and warm against his neck.

_Jesus, if Alan could see this, he'd shoot me,_ he thought wryly. Aloud, he said, "Tin-Tin?"

She stirred against him and mumbled something incoherent. He said her name again as he extricated himself from her and sat up. But this time she didn't move.

"God, I have _got_ to get us out of here!" he said, rising to his feet. His back ached, boy, did it ache. He stretched back and forth, to and fro, trying to ease the pain. But it didn't look like it would be going anywhere anytime soon. He made his way across the room and his ears began to fill up. Suddenly he realized what had awakened him in the first place.

"We're diving," he said. "We're going deeper." He jiggled the latch on the door. "If I could just figure us a way outta here."

07:15:59

"A-All right, uh, Dr. Godfrey, we've a-assembled the materials you requested."

"Thank you, Christopher."

"Christopher? That's your name? Why's everyone call you Brains?" Dr. Payne asked.

"Uh, well, it's a-a long story, uh, Doctor."

"You'll have to tell me some time," Payne replied. "Now, what about this formula? Do you really think the C-60 will remain stable enough to add the nitrozine?"

"There's only one way to find out," Godfrey said. "How 'bout that Reaction Chamber, Christopher?"

"Uh, yes, it's in the next room. Let's get the nitrozine and, uh, C-60 over there. Dr. Otayuki?"

"Yes?"

"I-I need you to work on the, uh, sterolite combination. Remember, it, uh, has to be just right in order to coagulate the, uh, mercurolite sufficiently. I-If it's so much as, uh, one milligram o-off, the outer shell of the device will, uh, continue to degrade a-as it moves through the a-atmosphere."

"Very well."

As Dr. Otayuki moved to a workbench at the far end of the room, Brains picked up the beaker of C-60 and Dr. Payne picked up the beaker of nitrozine.

"Dr. Godfrey, I-I think you should work on recreating the exact formula for UH-3 that you, uh, developed at Canton. We're, uh, going to have to have some to, uh, test this mixture on once we've, uh, successfully combined it."

"Right away. Where's your store of uranium?"

"O-Over there in the Radioactive Storage Room. You-You'll find, uh, radiation suits hanging just outside the, uh, sealed tank."

And so the scientists went to work. Brains only hoped they'd succeed in time to stop the deaths of millions of people.

07:20:47

Jeff and Penny had been standing near the entrance to the lab, listening to the scientists patter back and forth about what they were doing. Penny had been surprised to hear Dr. Godfrey's name for Brains.

"Jeff, what is the long story Brains is talking about? Why does the doctor call him Christopher?"

"Well, Penny, that's the name Brains uses to get patents and publish his work."

"I thought he used Hiram Hackenbacker as an alias."

"Sometimes he does. But the woman who cared for him at the orphanage gave him the name Christopher Braman. After they found him, and no one claimed him, they realized he'd need a name. Brains once told me that Natalie Stephens, the woman who practically raised him, named him Christopher after her late husband, and Braman because it was her maiden name."

"Ah. That explains his robot's name."

"Yes. I think he kind of did it as his way of paying homage to her."

"Whatever happened to this Natalie Stephens?"

"She disappeared when he was five or six, I think. He didn't find out what had happened to her until last year, when he decided to go digging for information. It turns out she died of an aneurysm in her room at the orphanage. He was never told she'd died, just that she'd gone away."

"Oh, that's sad. Hmm. Christopher. I like it. It suits him. Why do you not call him that?"

Jeff shrugged. "He prefers Brains. Even though Christopher Braman's the name he's gone by publicly ever since it was given to him, I don't think he identifies with it other than where his memories of Natalie are concerned."

Penny nodded thoughtfully as Jeff moved forward. Dr. Otayuki didn't even look up from his microscope as the pair headed for the next room.

"Ah, Brains, there you are."

"Y-Yes, Mr. Tracy."

"I need to talk to you about Thunderbird 4."

"Yes?"

"Penny and I are taking her out into the Pacific. I've no idea what's gonna happen out there, and I want to make sure she's ready for action."

Brains placed a test tube of C-60 into one of the robotic hands inside the Reaction Chamber, and then turned to face his benefactor. "Well, uh, Mr. Tracy, last check was two days ago, and e-everything was a green."

"Right. We'll go do the pre-launch so we're ready as soon as John finds that sub. Come on, Penny."

07:29:17

"We're five minutes out, Megan. How's Kyrano?"

"I got him breathing again, but he's not doing well. I've slipped him another nitro tablet. His pulse is still very weak. I'm actually surprised he's alive."

"I learned a long time ago never to underestimate Kyrano," Scott replied. "Thunderbird 1 to Base."

"Reading you, Scott."

"We'll be landing at the hospital in less than five minutes."

"How's Kyrano holding up?"

"He stopped breathing, but Megan got him going again."

"Okay. Listen, just to let you know, I'm doing pre-launch on Thunderbird 4. John's still trying to find any trace of an unidentifiable sub in the Pacific. Once he hits on it, we're going down there."

Scott frowned. It had been a while since his father had piloted Thunderbird 4. And Penny? "Are you sure about this, Father?"

"No. But I won't sit on my hands if there's a chance I can find them."

"As soon as we drop Kyrano at the hospital, I'm heading for Arlington."

"Have Megan stay with you. Whatever Brains and the others work out, we might just need someone else we can trust on the east coast."

"F.A.B. Landing now. I'll be in touch."

07:32:01

Parker had been sitting two hundred miles off the coast of Southern California for several hours now. He'd been in touch with John in Thunderbird 5, but hadn't heard from anyone else as yet. Just when he began to wonder if he'd be sitting there floating on the water in a pink Rolls Royce all day, an incoming transmission broke through his reverie.

"This h'is FAB One," he said, opening the channel.

"Ah, Parker, how are you?"

"Oh, m'lady, h'are you a sight for sore ones."

Penny smiled. "Is everything all right where you are?"

"Yes, m'lady. H'I've been sittin' off the coast for a bit o' time now, bobbin' h'up an' down like a toy. H'It's getting migh'y rough h'out 'ere."

"What do the weather satellites report?"

"Bad wevver a'ead, m'lady. H'I'm afraid h'it won't be getting h'any easier on me stomach."

"Poor dear. Parker, Jeff and I will be taking Thunderbird 4 out as soon as John locates a bogey."

Parker's eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline. "A _bogey_, madam?"

Penny couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, Parker. I'm afraid that if you hang about with Americans long enough, you begin to pick up on their lingo."

"H'I'll say, m'lady. Wha' can I do?"

"Stay right where you are. If Gordon and Tin-Tin _are_ aboard a submarine, and Canton discovers we're on to him, he may head your way. I want you to be ready at a moment's notice."

"Yes, m'lady. Goo' luck, m'lady."

"You, too, Parker. Lady Penelope out."

07:38:42

"Okay, the final diagnostics are running. How's Parker holding up?"

"I think he's a bit sea weary, Jeff. The weather satellites show a large storm headed his way and the water's a bit choppy."

"Poor guy. Is he in place?"

"Yes. I've warned him to be on alert in case Canton appears."

"Good. Let's get back up to the Lounge and see how things are going."

07:40:12

"Okay, Megan, you can ride up front here with me. There's a fold-down seat here."

"Thanks. I think I'd get too lonely back there all by myself."

"Kyrano...will he be okay?"

Megan nodded as she strapped herself in. "Yes, I think so. They were amazed he was still alive, but he seemed to be pretty stable for the moment."

"God, this is bad. He was our only link to Gordon and Tin-Tin. Now we're gonna have to rely on technology to find them." Scott fired Thunderbird 1's VTOL rocket and she rose vertically into the air. "Hang on, Megan. I'm gonna make this Bird fly like she's never flown before."

She nodded and gripped the edges of the seat tightly as Scott opened the throttle. "You seem very close to Virgil," she managed to say as the G-forces started pressing her back into the seat.

Scott swallowed the lump in his throat. His mind filled with images from their past...from when they were eight and five, and Virgil had fallen in a patch of mud on their grandparents' farm. It had been their last trip to see them before Lucy died. Virgil had just lain there crying, certain their mother would be angry with him for spoiling his clothes. Scott came to the rescue, picking him up out of the mess. Virgil had clung tightly to him, begging not to be taken back to the house.

A filthy little Virgil wound around Scott resulted in the older boy being covered from head to toe in mud himself. When he'd taken Virgil back to the house at last, they'd gone straight to their room, where Scott stripped his and Virgil's clothes off and got them both in the tub. By the time their mother realized what was going on, he and Virgil were both clean and redressed, and Scott had even taken the soiled clothes to the washer. Virgil had been so grateful for his brother's protection that he'd climbed up onto his lap, given him a sloppy kiss on the cheek and said, "I love you, Scotty."

Tears stung Scott's eyes as another memory surfaced. This time Scott had been climbing a tree on the farm. He'd been fourteen and Virgil, eleven. The limb he'd been sitting on was a dead branch, and his weight soon made it give way beneath him. He'd yelped as it broke, sending him falling nearly nine feet to the snow-covered ground below. Virgil, who'd been in an upstairs bedroom painting at the time, had seen it all from the window. Having had the wind knocked out of him, Scott couldn't even speak, and was sure he'd broken his ankle, which throbbed painfully.

He'd begun to panic, wondering if he was going to lie there and die in the cold snow with nobody the wiser. Until at last a face framed by the sun had appeared in his line of sight. At first he was convinced it was an angel come to take him away. But then he heard Virgil's voice frantically calling his name. Virgil stroked his hair and told him to stay calm, to let his lungs start working again. He stayed there with him until Scott was able to rise to a sitting position, and then helped him hobble back home.

It was only after he'd come back to his senses that he realized Virgil had been out there with him for nearly twenty minutes, in below-zero weather and kneeling in two-foot-deep snow with bare feet and wearing nothing but a pair of cut-off sweats and an undershirt.

He flashed forward to the mine rescue in Israel. Explosives had been accidentally detonated, causing the infrastructure of the mine to destabilize. A cave-in left eleven miners trapped. He and Virgil had brought all but one man to safety when a beam above Scott's head creaked and groaned. Virgil looked up, saw it was about to give way, and tackled Scott to the ground, completely covering him with his own body.

When the beam broke, chunks of rock and dirt rained down upon them. One hit Virgil square between his shoulder blades. If he had not been there, if he hadn't risked his life for his brother, that rock would've hit Scott's head. He would've been killed for sure. Virgil had saved his life.

As he had so very many times. Sure, Scott had returned the favor, but he never felt like he'd truly paid his brother back for everything he'd done. Vigil was his listener. He was the one Scott talked to. The only one he could open up to. If it weren't for Virgil, Scott didn't think he'd have made it this far. He didn't even want to try and think of doing this without him.

Megan watched him, brow furrowed. She knew he was remembering things about his comrade. Probably different things that had happened on rescues, she reasoned. She was surprised by the depth of emotion in his voice when next he spoke.

"I can't lose him," he said, his voice barely audible. "I can't lose him now."

07:50:52

While Ruth waited anxiously outside the operating room, Alan lay in a semi-private ICU bay. Accordion walls had been pulled around his bed. His hair was still singed and blackened, but most of his skin had been cleaned. A white sheet and a dark rose-pink blanket covered him. His arms lay atop the blanket along either side of his body. Monitors beeped and blipped the rhythm of his heart. The steady whoosh of the ventilator pumping oxygen into his lungs could be heard. An IV slowly dripped saline solution into his body. A second IV fed him nutrients and a third, a derivative of morphine to dull the pain should he awaken.

At the foot of the bed, where the two sides of the accordion wall met, there was an audible click. Then one side of the wall began to open, sliding along its metal tracks with only the slightest of scraping sounds. A tall man with light brown hair and dark chocolate eyes, dressed in a white lab coat, stole through the opening and then turned to quickly shut the accordion wall behind him. This accomplished, he walked to the side of the bed where the ventilator machine and heart monitor were positioned.

"Alan Tracy," the man said, his eyes cold and hard as he stared down at the figure below him. "It's been a long time. A _very_ long time."

He reached over and flipped a switch on the monitor. It powered down, the screen going dark, the beeps stopping. "There, now. We don't want any alarms going off, do we, Alan? You remember me, don't you? Bonneville Flats, 2023? You know who I am."

The man's hand reached over to the ventilator and hovered above the power button. "Frank Jacobs. Remember? You jacked me but good that day, you shit. Now somebody's given me a lotta good reasons to take my revenge." He looked thoughtfully at the helpless man lying in bed. "I just wanted to make sure. I wanted to make sure you knew who _killed_ you."

And with that, he hit the power button. Jacobs exited the accordion wall in smug satisfaction as he heard the machine hissing to a halt behind him. Turning for one last look, he smiled. "Goodbye, Alan Tracy."

07:54:24

Ruth finally forced herself to look through the window again. The nurses and Dr. Gray were running around like mad hens shouting at one another. She pressed the intercom button so she could hear what they were saying.

"...losing him! Blood pressure's down, get it back up! Get it back up!"

"We need to seal that artery, _now_! Re-route using anterior femoralis! Clamps!"

"Here, Doctor," a nurse said as she handed him two small metal clips. "What are you going to do?"

"I think I can stretch the tunica adventitia enough to reach the anterior artery. I should be able to graft it on if I cut through just right into the anterior's endothelium. Scalpel!"

Ruth's head was spinning. She had no idea what the hell they were saying in there. But it was clear that Virgil was in trouble.

"He's dropping, Doctor! I can't get the blood into him fast enough!"

"You are _not_ going to die!" Dr. Gray nearly bellowed as he worked to reattach Virgil's severed artery. "Nurse, irrigation!"

"Got it!" The nurse came over with a tiny combination vacuum tube and began spraying a small amount of water in and sucking the fluid out of the wound.

Ruth turned, her stomach flopping, and leaned back against the window. It was then that she noticed a rather tall man in a white lab coat walking her way. She frowned as she stood up straight. That man looked familiar to her. _Very_ familiar. He kept coming toward her, and then went on by without even glancing her way. She walked out into the middle of the hall and watched him reach the end of it and disappear into a stairwell.

"I know that man," she said aloud, wracking her brain. "I'm sure I do." Several minutes went by. She could hear the doctor and nurses still yelling inside the OR, but something about that man...it just niggled at the back of her brain and refused to let go. Where had she seen him? It had to do with one of her grandsons. It had to do with what...boats? No. Cars? Cars...

And then it dawned on her.

"Oh, my God!" she gasped, turning and running the other way. "Alan!"

07:58:58

Alan's body began to tremble. A gagging, coughing sound escaped his throat as his chest heaved, as his body struggled to find oxygen, struggled to breathe. His arms and legs jerked, his head thrashing to and fro on the pillow. His esophagus and windpipe went into spasms in a violent attempt to expel the breathing tube from his throat.

At last his body gave up. His fight to live ceased. He flopped on the bed every few seconds, much like a fish removed from water. His lips began to turn blue. At the last moment, as his heart seized and his brain began to shut down, his clear blue eyes opened wide. A single tear escaped and ran down his temple.

And then his eyes fluttered closed.

07:59:58

07:59:59

08:00:00


	9. Hour Nine

**Hour Nine**

_The following takes place between 8:00 a.m. and 9:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

08:00:10

There was nothing but darkness. No matter which way she looked, her eyes picked up no trace of light. She couldn't even tell if she was standing or floating or lying down or what. She felt perfectly fine, as though she hadn't a care in the world. How had she come to be in this place? Where was this place?

"My daughter."

"Father?" A gray glow arose before her, a caricature of sunrise, casting shadows across her face. She watched as a figure approached. When it came into full view, she recognized it immediately. "Father!" Tin-Tin raced forward to meet him...again, unable to tell if she were actually running or just flying.

Kyrano held her tightly, kissing the top of her head as she nestled into his arms. "My child. I am so happy you are here."

She pulled back a bit and looked into his eyes. "Where are we, Father?"

"We are in the middle of time and space."

"I don't understand."

Kyrano seated himself on a large pillow that suddenly appeared. Tin-Tin couldn't even see the floor it was sitting on. He reached down and patted a second pillow that appeared directly in front of him. "Come, Daughter. Sit with me."

She lowered herself to the pillow, her legs crossed Indian-style.

"This is the Great Void, Tin-Tin," he began to explain. "It is within this special place that spans the whole of all that is and is not where minds may meet."

"Are we projecting?"

"That is one way of looking at it, yes. In reality, I am lying in a hospital bed."

"A hospital bed? Why?"

"I am afraid that I was attacked by The Hood again. My body was unable to withstand the assault. It was the worst attack ever. And so my heart seized."

"Father!" she cried, her hands reaching out to grab his. "We're not--I mean, are we--we're not _dead_, are we?"

"No, no, calm yourself, my child. We both live still."

"If you're lying in a hospital bed, I mean, if you're ill back there on Earth...what about me? Why am I here?"

"I do not know for certain. What is the last you remember?"

Tin-Tin thought hard. She was finding it difficult to get past where she was right now, difficult to recall anything other than waking up here in the dark.

Sensing her confusion, Kyrano said, "You and Gordon are being held hostage aboard a submarine."

Those words brought everything flooding back to her. "Oh, Father!" she exclaimed, eyes filling with tears. "We were meditating. Gordon and I, we were meditating for you. I felt your heartbeat slowing! We were trying...we were trying to keep you going, trying to save you!"

"Ah, yes. I felt a presence. I felt it faintly, but I knew someone was with me. Thank you, my daughter. I believe you and Gordon have saved my life."

The two hugged fiercely and then parted, hands holding tight to one another's. "But I don't know what happened. I remember reaching that plane, Father, the one you always spoke of. The one I could never reach on my own before today. I found Gordon. I found his mind. I could hear him, and I know he could hear me."

Kyrano nodded and smiled. He had always known that one day Tin-Tin would come into her own where her abilities were concerned. It seemed that day had come. "What happened next?"

"I-I felt something...no, some_one_. They were evil, Father! They were so evil! They invaded my thoughts, they took my mind...they took my mind...oh, God!" She launched into his arms again, sobbing as the agony of the experience washed over her anew. "He took my mind!" she wailed.

Kyrano's face hardened. It couldn't be. He wouldn't have done that. Would he? "Was it...was it your half-uncle, Tin-Tin?"

She sat up straight, looking wildly into his eyes. "Oh, my God. Yes. Yes, it was him! I know that now. I didn't know it then, but you're right, it was! I told him...Father, he _made_ me tell him!"

"Tell him what?"

"Where we were. Where _I_ was. He knows we're on the sub! He's coming to find us! Oh, my God, oh, my God."

"Calm, Tin-Tin. Relax. Do you remember anything else?"

Tin-Tin closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing. She thought and thought, desperately trying to recover those terrible moments, and what had happened after. Finally, she nodded her head and looked into her father's eyes.

"I lost consciousness. I could feel myself floating above my body. Gordon...Gordon was frantic. I--I was having seizures. After that, I don't remember anything else. Oh, Father, what are we going to do?"

"We must find a way to contact Mr. Tracy."

"But how? How can we do that from this place?"

"I do not know for certain that we can. But we must try."

08:16:40

Ruth barged into the ICU, tearing the accordion walls surrounding Alan's bed away with the strength of ten women half her age. "Alan!" she cried when she saw him. She slammed her hand into the alarm button on the wall next to his bed, then ran around to the other side and took in the state of the ventilator and heart monitor. "Alan, come on, breathe! Breathe!"

Within seconds, a male nurse came running in, followed by a female nurse. "What is it?" he asked.

"He's stopped breathing, the machines were turned off!"

"What?" The male nurse ran for the intercom. "ICU, Bed 4, Code Blue, _stat_!"

Ruth heard alarms ring as the nurse gently pulled the tube out of Alan's throat. "Do something!" she cried. Then she turned to the female nurse and said, "Close this place down! I know who did it! He might still be here!"

She nodded and ran out of the room to the nurse's station with Ruth hot on her heels. Hitting the switch for Security, she yelled, "Immediate lockdown! Seal all exits _now_!" She turned to Ruth and asked, "Who is he?"

"Frank Jacobs, a man that raced once with Alan several years ago. During some test runs, Alan lost a wheel and smashed into his car. Jacobs was laid up for nearly a year and he's never forgiven Alan."

"Ma'am, what's he look like?"

"He's about six feet tall, early thirties, light brown hair, dark brown eyes...he was wearing a white lab coat."

The nurse repeated her description into the microphone while Ruth headed for the staircase she'd seen Jacobs take.

"What's happened?" came the Security Chief's voice over the phone. "Why are we after this guy?"

"He just tried to kill a patient!"

08:20:22

"Thunderbird 1 to Base."

"What is it, Scott?"

"I can't raise Grandma. She's not answering her com."

"Have John get in touch with the hospital and find out what's going on."

Just at that moment, John's voice broke through. "Thunderbird 1 and Base from Thunderbird 5!"

"Strength 5, go ahead."

"Scott! It's the hospital in Arlington! They've just gone into Lockdown!"

"What?" Jeff bellowed. "What happened?"

"They're saying something about a man who just tried to kill a patient in ICU! No...oh, God...it was Alan!"

"Oh, my God!" Scott cried. "Why would someone try to kill him!"

"Dammit! John, what's his condition?"

"I don't know, I'm trying to get through to 'em now, but they're not responding. Everything's a mess down there between the D.C. victims and now this."

"It can only mean one thing," Scott said, his hands tightening around Thunderbird 1's controls. "Canton must know he's there. He must've either gone there himself or sent someone."

"Open it up, Scott. Get there as fast as you can. If he knows Alan's there, he'll soon find out about Virgil. John, get hold of Mobile Control and see if you can't arrange for agents to be posted with them. When you get the hospital on the line, tell them exactly who's coming so they'll let them in."

"F.A.B.!"

"And John? I want them armed."

Megan just sat wide-eyed listening to the exchange. After what Scott had said earlier, she sensed his bond with Virgil went beyond camaraderie. Now, hearing the frantic tones used by John, Jeff and Scott, she began to truly wonder about International Rescue. They seemed like more than just an organization. They almost seemed like...family.

"Hold tight, Meg," Scott said, barely realizing he'd shortened her name. "We're going to ten thousand."

She nodded and closed her eyes as she felt the pressure on her body increase. God, was this nightmare ever going to end?

08:25:33

Ruth exited the stairwell into the hospital Lobby and ran straight for the front door. "Did you catch him?" she asked the two security guards who stood nearby.

"No, ma'am, we haven't seen anyone matching the description Nurse Blevins gave us. Are you his grandmother, the one who recognized the guy?"

"Yes!" Just then a car drove past the front doors, not more than ten feet away. Ruth's eyes widened. "That's him! That's him! That's Frank Jacobs! Let me outta here!"

She hit the emergency open button on the side of the sliding glass doors and raced out into the parking lot, the two security guards on her tail. "We have to go after him!" she cried.

Just then, a police vehicle screeched to a halt right in front of them. The policeman opened the window and yelled, "Did you catch him?"

Ruth opened the passenger door and got in the car, slamming the door shut behind her. She turned to the two shocked guards and said, "You protect those International Rescue boys, or there'll be hell to pay!" Then she turned to the policeman and said, "After him! He went that way!"

"Who the hell are you and what do you think you're doing in my car?"

Impatient as she was to give chase, Ruth knew the cop wasn't going to budge without an explanation. "I'm from International Rescue."

Chang eyeballed her. A little old lady? With International Rescue? "You gotta be kiddin' me."

"Young man, do I look like I'm kidding?"

"I'm sorry, but if you don't show me somethin' quick, I'm placing you under arrest. You can't just commandeer a squad car."

One of the security guards approached them. "Officer, she's who she says she is."

Chang eyed the man suspiciously. "ID, ma'am."

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" Ruth reached into her purse, pulled out her wallet and shoved it in the officer's face.

"This doesn't say International Rescue. It says Ruth Tracy."

More than slightly put off, Ruth retorted, "International Rescue is a secret organization. Do you think we advertise who we are?

Chang seemed nonplussed.

"The man you're letting get away just tried to kill one of our operatives. I have a feeling he was put up to it by the man who's responsible for what happened to D.C."

Whether convinced or simply interested in trying to catch the D.C. bomber, the cop handed her ID back to her without further ado. All four tires left rubber on the asphalt as the policeman hit the gas. The two guards just looked at each other.

"Jesus," one of them said. "So much for what they say about little old ladies."

08:27:51

"What the hell is going on around here?" Dr. Gray yelled as the alarm bells rang insistently. He'd just finished fusing the two severed ends of Virgil's posterior femoral artery into the anterior. Thankfully, it was a success, and color began to return to the unconscious man's face as new blood traveled from IV bags into his body.

One nurse, who'd run out the door and spoken to another, hurried back into the OR. "Dr. Gray, it's the other man from International Rescue! Get to the ICU!"

"Dammit!" the doctor swore as he ripped the latex gloves from his hands and pulled his surgical mask down. "Get Dr. Shea in here to start repairing the muscle, now!"

"Yes, Doctor."

He sprinted out of the room and down the hall to the ICU, where he found Nurse Abel Crane leaning against the wall panting. "Report," he barked, shining his penlight into each of Alan's eyes in succession.

Nurse Crane stood up straight and replied, "He wasn't breathing when I arrived. I removed the tube and started CPR. He only came back about forty seconds ago."

"How the hell did this happen?"

"Don't know, Sir. The lady who was here said the machines had been turned off."

"Jesus...this'll set him back but good, if not permanently damage his brain. His pupils are dilating, that's a good sign. Stand back, let me intubate him again. His breathing is far too labored for my liking. And I want you prepare a room on the eighth floor. It's the safest, most secure area of the hospital. We'll move him as soon as you're ready."

"Yes, Sir!" Nurse Crane responded as he left the room.

"What is it with you guys?" Gray said as he unwrapped a sterile breathing tube and approached Alan's bed. "Why the hell is everyone so bent on seeing you destroyed?"

08:34:16

"There he is! That's his car!" Ruth cried as the squad car rounded a corner. She raised her wrist communicator to her face. "Ruth calling Thunderbird 1! Ruth calling Thunderbird 1!"

Frowning and looking sidelong at her, the policeman asked, "Who is this guy? And for that matter, who are _you_?"

"I told you who I am. And that man is Frank Jacobs, someone who has a bone to pick with the man he just tried to kill." Ruth turned to him, craning her neck to see his name badge.

"Sergeant Bill Chang, at your service, ma'am," he said.

She nodded and turned her face back to the front window. "Don't you _dare_ let him out of your sight, Sergeant Chang."

Chang nodded as a voice came from somewhere in the vicinity of Ruth's arm. "Thunderbird 1 here. What's your status?"

But instead of listening in, he had his own job to do. He pressed a button on his CB unit. "Dispatch, car Two-Oh-Four, Code 8, in pursuit of vehicle, suspect in an attempted 187. Suspect vehicle is late model tan two-door, 10-28 on license Frank Edward Henry Four-Two-Two. Vehicle headed east on I-66. Copy."

"Roger, Two-Oh-Four."

Sergeant Chang flipped on his lights and sirens and picked up speed as he tried to keep the car in sight. Then he spoke again. "Possible identification of subject: Frank Jacobs. Run a 10-20a. And get a chopper in the air!"

"Roger that, Two-Oh-Four. Air Five ETA four minutes. 10-29, license plates registered to Franklin Quincy Jacobs, aged 34, 6'1", 210 pounds, brown hair, brown eyes. Last known address 374 Marshall Drive, Ft. Myer, Virginia."

"That's him!" Ruth cried. "Please don't let him get away. Please."

"I'll do my best."

08:42:00

"Base and Thunderbird 1, come in!"

"Here, son."

"With you, John. I've got Grandma on the wire. She's in a squad car, but there was interference and I couldn't hear half of what she was saying. How's Alan?"

"Alan's okay, best I could get from the nurse I spoke to was that some guy unplugged his ventilator and he stopped breathing, but they've got him hooked up again."

"Son of a _bitch_!" Scott cried, slamming his fist onto the armrest of his seat.

"Who was it, John?"

"I've tapped into the frequency being used by the Arlington police. Hang on, Father, I'm gonna play back so I can see if they've identified him."

They couldn't hear the playback, but they heard John gasp.

"What? John!"

"Father, I--I don't believe this. It's Frank Jacobs. They're in pursuit now."

"Frank Jacobs?" Scott asked incredulously. "The guy Alan tangled with at Bonneville? You've gotta be kidding me!"

"God," Jeff breathed. "That wreck laid him up for a year. But that can't be why he tried to kill him. Canton must've gotten to him. There's no way Jacobs alone would've known Alan was in that hospital. John, you get on with the Arlington police and make certain they take him _alive_. We need to know for sure if it was Canton who put him up to this."

"F.A.B." There was a moment's silence before John spoke again. "I'm getting the latest on Virgil!"

Scott held his breath.

"They've stopped the bleeding and he's stabilizing as we speak."

Scott exhaled in one big rush of air. "Thank God," he whispered.

"They're working on patching him up now. I guess his leg's pretty torn up from what the nurse is reporting. They're also going to place Alan in a secure ward, and I've got six agents headed to the hospital to stand guard."

"Scott, when you get there, make sure they put Virgil in that ward, too. And find out where the hell Grandma is!"

"F.A.B. We'll be arriving in about twenty minutes."

"I'll keep you posted on developments. Thunderbird 5 out."

"I'm glad Virgil's going to be okay," Megan said, noticing how Scott visibly relaxed.

"Thanks, Meg." Then, as if just then realizing it, he added, "Sorry about that. I seem to have shortened your name on you."

She smiled. "No problem. Meg works." She hesitated for a moment before asking, "There's something different about you."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't mean you, personally, I mean...all of you."

_Uh-oh._

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were family. You even called that lady Grandma."

Scott started slightly as he glanced down to where she sat. What did he say to that? "Well, I guess we might as well be. We get into some pretty hairy situations. And since she's the oldest of the bunch, we all call her Grandma."

She seemed satisfied with that for the moment. Scott reminded himself to try and be a little more cautious from here on in. This Megan Crawford was already too close to the truth for comfort.

08:48:06

"I believe I have located him."

"I can't sense him, Father."

"No, I do not think you will be able to do so. He is a very difficult man to reach. His mind is not as open as I would like. Join your energy with mine, my daughter. Perhaps together it will be enough."

Tin-Tin nodded and grasped her father's hands. Closing her eyes, she allowed her thoughts to mingle with his and could almost tangibly feel the energy flowing between them.

"This will work," Kyrano said as he closed his eyes. "It must."

08:49:59

Jeff had just finished loading four Depressurization Diving Suits along with other supplies and equipment onto Thunderbird 4 when he suddenly felt dizzy. The metal toolkit he held in his hand clanged to the floor as he staggered back against the hull.

"Jeff!" Penny cried from the side hatch of 4. She ran out to where he had leaned over, his hands on his thighs. "Jeff, what's wrong?"

"Don't...know..." he gasped. "Dizzy..."

"Jeff, sit down at once," Penny ordered, pulling him down to the floor. "Put your head between your knees."

He nodded dumbly and leaned forward. The room spun uncontrollably and his stomach lurched in protest. "God...Pen...Pen..."

Penny raised his wrist to her face. "Brains! Brains, it's Jeff! Come quickly!"

Brains' face appeared in the watch, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, the world around him exploded in a violent flash of white. The picture danced wildly for a moment and then the image winked out.

"_Brains_!" Penny cried, just as Jeff fell over into her legs, catching her off-balance and knocking her to the floor. "_Jeff_!"

08:52:49

"What the hell is he coming here for?" Sergeant Chang bellowed as Jacobs' car plowed through one of the side gates at Arlington National Cemetery.

Ruth peered through the windshield into the sky where she saw a police helicopter hovering overhead. The CB was alive with calls shooting back and forth between it and the ground units following them. She'd given up trying to get through to Scott, making a mental note to ask Brains why the hell their transmission had been so broken. Chang took her by surprise when he braked hard, and she had to brace herself against the dash to keep from flying forward.

"10-96, Arlington National Cemetery, east side," he said into the CB as he threw his car door open. "Stay put! He's out and running!"

She didn't even have a chance to answer as Sergeant Chang sprinted away. She could see Frank Jacobs in the distance on top of a small rise. He looked back over his shoulder once before disappearing from view.

"The hell I'll stay put," Ruth muttered as she opened the door. "He tried to kill my grandson."

As she got out of the car, she could hear sirens approaching, but they sounded awfully far away to her. At her age she couldn't run too fast, but she jogged as quickly as she possible to catch up to them, thankful that Virgil had always encouraged her to stay in good shape. When she reached the small hill, she stood there for a moment, trying to see between all the ornate headstones and vaults that filled the area ahead.

And then she caught sight of them. Chang had made good time, he was only about twenty feet behind Jacobs, but the latter was hiding behind the Iwo Jima monument, and she could tell Chang wasn't aware of his location. When she looked into the sky, she saw the chopper hovering over Jacobs, but there were more obstructions than just the monument beneath it, so Ruth doubted it would be able to give Chang the exact pinpoint he needed. She started down the hill, determined to catch up to the sergeant.

"Ruth to Thunderbird 1."

"Grandma, what the--where are you?"

"Arlington National Cemetery. He's running, it's Frank Jacobs, Scott, he's running and the sergeant's gone after him."

"I know it's Frank, John heard it over the wire. What happened to you before, why couldn't I get through to you?"

"I don't know, " Ruth huffed. "How far away are you?"

"Not far, just hang on, we'll be there fast."

It was a game of cat and mouse. Chang knew his suspect was hiding somewhere up ahead. He drew his gun and flattened himself against a nearby vault. He didn't want to use his portable CB to contact Air Five for fear of giving his own location away to the suspect. Peeking around the corner, he gave himself the all-clear before dashing to the next structure, a tall monument that was just about the width of his body. Flattening himself against it for a moment, he then ran to the next vault. He continued zigzagging from structure to structure, making his way closer to where Air Five hovered above.

As he crouched behind a smaller headstone, looking back the way he'd come, he saw something that made him mad as a hornet. It was Ruth, and she was headed directly for him. "Damn that woman! How'd I know she wouldn't stay in the car?" he muttered. "Get down!" he called out. "Stay back!"

She hesitated for a moment before hiding behind the tall monument he'd used for cover only minutes before. Then she peeked around it and watched as Chang made his way to another monument. When he turned to check on her location, she pointed over to his right. He nodded, realizing she must have seen where Jacobs was hiding when she came over the rise. He looked around the edge of his cover and stepped out from behind it, fully intending to run for the statue only three feet to his right.

Ruth looked just in time to see Jacobs emerge from behind the Iwo Jima monument. In his hand was a gun. Chang froze. Jacobs looked beyond him to where Ruth stood transfixed.

"Nice to see you again, Mrs. Tracy!" he called out.

Chang slowly raised his weapon toward his suspect.

"You won't get away with this, Frank!" she yelled.

Chang's gun was almost level with Jacobs.

"Won't I?" Frank sneered. "We'll just see about that."

And then a shot rang out.

08:59:58

08:59:59

09:00:00


	10. Hour Ten

**Hour Ten**

_The following takes place between 9:00 a.m. and 10:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

09:00:03

Ruth stood horrified as Sergeant Chang dropped to the ground like a rag doll. She looked up and her eyes met Frank's. They stood for endless seconds holding one another's gaze as though Ruth were challenging him to raise that gun to her next.

Before either of them knew what was happening, shots rang out from above as Air Five opened fire on the man who'd just killed a fellow police officer. Dodging bullets, Frank had no choice but to turn and run the other way. Anger burning in her eyes, Ruth made her way to the fallen police officer and knelt beside him. It was more than obvious that Chang was dead. The bullet had hit him right between the eyes.

She looked to the right and saw his gun laying not six inches from his hand. Steely resolve overtaking her, she picked it up, palmed it firmly, and rose to her feet. "I may just be an old lady, but this isn't over yet."

09:01:57

"Jesus!"

"John?"

"Shots fired at Arlington National Cemetery!"

"Is it Jacobs?"

"Hang on...yeah, Air Five's confirming...suspect fired a single shot...officer down...Grandma!"

"Grandma?"

"I don't...I don't believe this. Scott, I just pulled in a live feed from Air Five! Grandma's down there with 'em!"

"I know, John, I know, but what's she doing? Dammit!"

"Air Five...is reporting that...she's got the sergeant's gun! She's giving chase!"

"What the hell is she on?"

"Scott, you've gotta do something, she's gonna get herself killed!"

"Right, I'm nearly at Arlington now. Have you notified Dad?"

"Can't get through to him, Scott."

"Whaddya mean you can't get through to him?"

"John! Scott! Somebody! Come in, _please_!"

"Penelope?" the brothers said in unison.

"Oh, thank heavens! Something awful has happened to Brains! And Jeff, he's having difficulty..."

"What? What's going _on_ back there, Penny?" Scott roared.

He and John watched Penny turn as Dr. Godfrey came running up to her.

"God, thank God I found you," he panted.

"What's happened?" Penny asked.

"It's Christopher and Dr. Payne. I think...there was an explosion...I was in a radiation suit...I think...God...I think they're _dead_!"

"No! Brains!" John cried.

Scott had just reached the outskirts of Arlington National Cemetery and could see the abandoned squad car with both front doors hanging open. "Penelope, what about Dad?"

At that moment, they all heard Jeff begin to mumble. Penny moved the watch closer to his face. His eyes were closed and a thin sheen of sweat covered his brow.

"Kyrano," he whispered, "Kyrano...Tin-Tin..."

"Jeff!" Scott called out, mindful of his passenger's presence. "Jeff, can you hear me?"

"Jeff," Penny said, gently shaking his shoulder. "Jeff, wake up, _please_."

"Kyrano," he continued to moan, "Tin-Tin...submarine...deep sea...seizures...the Hood..."

"The _Hood_?" John exclaimed.

"Hang on, John. If I didn't know better, I'd say Kyrano was talking to him."

"What?"

"I'm serious. Listen."

"The Hood...coming...Gordon...in danger...Tin-Tin..."

"Jesus Christ!" Scott yelled. "I see her! I see Grandma!"

"Where is she?" John asked.

"Oh, God! She's chasing him! I can see him! I can see Jacobs! I'm going in lower. Shit!"

"Penny," John said, "how's Dad?"

"He looks like he's coming out of it now. Dr. Godfrey, are you _certain_ Brains and Dr. Payne are dead?"

"No, but the smoke...God, I ripped the hood of my suit off as soon as it happened and I couldn't stand it, I started choking. They were just lying there. Payne was on his back, he was the one operating the arms when it happened...there isn't anything left of his face!"

"And Brains, what about Brains?"

"I--I don't know. He was lying facedown, I couldn't tell if he was okay or not. It looked like his clothes got burnt."

Jeff pulled himself to a sitting position. "Penny?" he said uncertainly.

She was instantly kneeling beside him, wiping his brow with her handkerchief. "Jeff, Jeff, are you all right?"

He shook his head, desperately trying to clear the fog from his mind. "Yes, I--I think so. Penny, it was Kyrano! Kyrano was speaking to me!"

"Oh, man...Dad!"

"Scott?"

"I'm coming in over Jacobs now. The chopper's giving me airspace," he relayed with no small measure of surprise in his voice. "No! He's raising his gun at Grandma! Goddammit, no!" He flipped open the external com and cried, "Grandma, stand down! Stand down _now_!"

Scott open his weapons hatch and lowered the automatic turret. He fully intended to take the bastard out before he could fire. Air Five also moved in and was firing on Jacobs before it even got close. But Jacobs was well-covered, at least temporarily, by a small overhang on a cement vault. Even as he crouched beneath it, however, the concrete began chipping away under the efforts of the police.

Jacobs, faced with an armed woman on the ground, a police helicopter firing like mad, and a huge silver rocket plane with an automatic weapon at the ready, knew he was done for.

"I'm not going out alone!" he cried as he raised his gun and squeezed the trigger.

Megan could only watch in awe as Ruth lifted her weapon with both hands and pointed it directly at Jacobs. When a single shot rang out, it wasn't Ruth Tracy who fell.

"What's happening?" Jeff bellowed, rising to his feet as the sound of Air Five's weapons ceased.

"She shot him," Scott said simply, unable to believe his own eyes. He retracted the turret and closed the weapons hatch almost by rote. "She damn well shot him."

"Well, I'll be," breathed John.

"Scott, you get down there and pick Grandma up _now_! Dr. Godfrey, what's this about Brains?"

"They were mixing the C-60 and nitrozine, Mr. Tracy. Lady Penelope called and Chris...ah, Brains...turned away from the Chamber. It must not have been sealed properly, the next thing I knew it exploded!"

"John, have you found that sub yet?"

"I'm rechecking the last quadrant now, Father. Looks like we might've come up with something. I've got the computer trying to verify ID."

"All right. Now, listen. Tin-Tin and Gordon are in real danger. I don't know how he got involved in all this, but The Hood's found out where they are. We need to launch Thunderbird 4 immediately. But first I've got to check on Brains. Come on, Penny."

They raced to the elevator with Dr. Godfrey, praying they weren't too late.

09:20:42

Gordon had been listening to the steady sounds of Tin-Tin breathing as his mind raced, trying to come up with a way out of their predicament. A couple of times she'd stirred, mumbling something he couldn't hope to understand. Now she rolled over, her head landing on Gordon's hand, which was palm-flat on the floor. He frowned as he felt something oddly cold against his skin. Lifting her head, he reached over with his other hand and felt her hair. It was then that he found it.

"Tin-Tin! You're a genius!" he crowed. He rose to his feet in triumph and headed for the locked door. In his hand, he held a single bobby pin. "This'll get us outta here, or my name's not Gordon Tracy."

09:22:14

The Hood turned his cargo jet due south. He was on final approach to Port Moresby, a large shipping town on the southern coast of Papua New Guinea. From there he would launch his subjet into the Pacific, and then make his way to the submarine he sought, whose coordinates had changed slightly from before.

"It won't be long now, _Acronym_. You have less than two hours to make your peace with this world." He laughed as he lowered his landing gear. "And as for you, my _niece_, I quite have other things in mind. Your father would not join me...but perhaps you will."

09:24:28

"Grandma!" Scott called out through his external speakers. "Run forty feet to your left as fast as you can!" He turned Thunderbird 1 around and headed for the clearing he'd seen as he was flying over. "Shit! The cops!" He flipped the external com on again. "Hurry!" He looked down at Megan, who was watching Ruth run faster than she'd ever thought a woman her age could. "Meg, quick, get back to the side hatch and get it open, key in 54693!"

"Right!" she said, unstrapping herself from the seat. She made her way back to the midsection just before the cargo hold. Keying in the numbers Scott had given her, she was more than relieved when the door slid open. Scott landed the Bird with ease and Megan lowered the ladder as she bent down and peeked out through the opening. She could see Ruth about twenty feet out, huffing and puffing, her face red from the effort. Before Megan could even call out to her, Ruth stumbled and fell, sprawling face-first into the grass.

"Grandma!" she cried. She slid to the edge of the hatch and dropped to the ground, then ran to the older woman's side.

"Megan!" Scott called out, racing back to the open door. "What happened?"

Having reached Ruth, Megan turned her over and found she'd lost consciousness. "Damn!" she swore as she hooked her arms beneath Ruth's armpits. She'd begun dragging her back toward Thunderbird 1 when Scott dropped out of the hatch and met her halfway.

"Grandma!" he cried, moving to pick up her feet. "Is she okay?"

"I don't know, but we'd better get outta here. The police are almost on us."

"You there! Halt!" a voice yelled from the distance.

"Get up inside, Meg, I'll lift her up to you."

"Right." She climbed up the ladder and rolled over onto her belly, her arms hanging out of the hatch. Scott, having picked Ruth up at the waist, hoisted her tiny frame upwards. Meg grabbed her arms and pulled her all the way up, with Ruth landing right on top of her.

Scott was inside in two steps. He quickly retracted the ladder and sealed the hatch door. "Get her strapped in, I've gotta get us outta here _now_!"

Megan pulled Ruth over to a chair and secured her, then took her own seat and buckled in. Moments later she heard the rocket fire and felt them lifting off into the air.

"This is Thunderbird 1 to Thunderbird 5."

"Right here, Scott."

"We've got to get Grandma to the hospital."

"How is she?"

"I don't know, she passed out trying to make it over to us. Megan's back in the hold with her now. What I don't get is why the police wanted us to stop. They gave me airspace when I first arrived."

"You're a little imposing in that flying contraption of yours, you know. Where's Air Five, anyway?"

"They landed right after Grandma shot Jacobs. They were the ones coming after her when she collapsed."

"Well, she _did_ shoot a man. Maybe they just wanted to interrogate her."

"They _have_ to know Grandma shooting Jacobs was self-defense. Anyone with half a brain could see that."

"Scott! Computer's just verified, unidentifiable submarine sitting fifty miles east of the Lau Group of islands, Fiji!"

"My God, she's so close to Base! How deep is she?" Scott asked as he brought Thunderbird 1 in to land on Arlington Hospital's helipad.

"485 feet, Scott, holding steady."

"All right. When Dad calls in with news about Brains, let him know. I've just landed at the hospital. Megan and I are taking Grandma in now."

"F.A.B."

09:37:54

Dr. Gray stuck his head into the OR. "How's it going, Shea?"

A balding man in his fifties raised his head from where he'd been working on Virgil's leg. "Not bad, Gray. Boy, you sure handed me over a tough one!"

"I know. Need some help?"

"No, I think I've got things under control. About another twenty minutes and we'll be able to close him up. I'm having some x-rays developed right now, I want to make sure he didn't break any bones in the fall."

"Great. I'll--"

"Dr. Gray, report to ER stat!"

Gray glowered at the PA speaker above his head, then closed his eyes and let out a whoosh of air. "Sorry, Shea, gotta run. No rest for the weary."

Dr. Shea nodded his head and returned to his work. "Just a few more tendons to tie up and we'll have your leg as good as new, young man."

09:39:09

Gordon opened the bobby pin until it was shaped like the letter L. "This works in the movies. Let's hope it works in real life, too," he said as he stuck the end of it into the lock. Using it as his guide, he felt around inside for the mechanism that would release the door. "Ah...there...there it is," he said as the pin scraped across a protrusion. "It's set back in there good, though."

He removed the pin and bent one side of it outwards, using his fingers to gauge whether or not it was at the right angle. Satisfied with his work, he maneuvered the pin into the hole again. He straightened his end slightly to afford him a better advantage at getting the bent end where it needed to be.

"Come on, baby, come on," he said. The minutes ticked by and Gordon started to wonder whether or this kind of thing actually _did_ work in the real world. He was about to get his answer. He heard a loud CLICK! and jumped in surprise. "No way," he breathed. Reaching out, he grabbed the latch handle and pulled it down.

It was unlocked.

09:43:33

Scott breezed into the Emergency Room, his grandmother in his arms. Megan was right next to him as Dr. Gray burst into the ER.

"Dr. Gray!" she called out, waving an arm.

He ran over to them. "Ruth!" he exclaimed when he saw whom Scott was carrying. "God, what happened?"

"She collapsed while running," Megan replied as Scott laid her on a gurney. "She's been through an awful strain."

"Can you help her, Doctor?" Scott asked, smoothing her hair away from her face.

"Let me check her out," he said as he placed a stethoscope to her chest with one hand while taking her pulse with the other. "Damn, pulse is thready and her heart's skipping around like it's playing hopscotch. Nurse!"

"Oh, God," Scott breathed.

Megan grabbed his arm and pulled him back as two nurses appeared. One of them brought an oxygen tank over and covered Ruth's mouth and nose with a mask. The other attached heart monitor electrodes to her chest and turned on the machine. Dr. Gray flashed a penlight into her eyes and bit his lip.

"Jane, set me up a saline IV. Kate, I want her prepped for a brain scan."

"A brain scan?" Scott asked, pulling away from Megan's grasp. "Why?"

"I'll be frank with you, um, Mr..."

"Scott," Megan offered.

"Right. Scott. Her pupils aren't dilating properly. I want to make sure there's no damage I should be aware of. Barring that, I'd say she's probably dehydrated and has a medium-severe concussion. But all in all, I think she'll be okay."

Scott sighed in relief and was surprised when Megan pulled him into a hug. He found himself hugging her back, then pulled away as a strange feeling came over him.

"Scott?" she said. "What is it?"

His eyes took on a faraway look as he whispered, "Virgil."

Before Megan could even get the next word out of her mouth, he was gone.

09:48:07

"Brains!" Jeff cried as he entered the lab. Dr. Otayuki had pulled the unconscious scientist out of the second lab room and into the first and to Jeff's horror was now standing over him with a large knife. "What are you _doing_?"

Dr. Otayuki grinned like Cheshire cat. "I'm getting rid of the one person who can stop Acronym," he replied.

"You _work_ for _Acronym_?" Penny gasped. She tried coming around to stand next to Jeff, but he pushed her back behind him.

"That is correct, madam. You are such fools. So trusting. He's been planning this for _years_!"

"If you kill him, you'll never make it out of here alive. You must know that." Jeff's voice was steady as he spoke, in stark contrast to the fear he felt inside.

"Ah, that's where you're wrong, Mr. Tracy. You haven't quite thought of _everything_."

Suddenly it dawned on Jeff...Godfrey. Where was Godfrey? He turned his head just in time to see him out the corner of his eye. From his hand, a metal blade glinted the light. He looked at Otayuki, who stood with knife poised to strike his engineer a fatal blow. Then he turned back toward Godfrey, who was advancing, his own knife raised high.

Penny leaned forward, her lips nearly touching his ear, and whispered, "Now!"

Jeff sprang at Otayuki full-force, flying headlong into the younger man's torso. They tumbled to the ground and scuffled, with Jeff on top punching his face repeatedly with one hand while the other grappled for the knife.

Simultaneously, Penny swung around and high-kicked the knife out of Godfrey's hand. It sailed across the lab and clattered down into a group of beakers. Jeff looked askance at them, only to see Godfrey tackle Penny to the floor. His attention back on Otayuki, he slammed his hand onto the floor time after time after time until at last the knife flew from his grasp. With one last right hook to the face, Otayuki was rendered unconscious.

Knife in hand, Jeff headed for the tangle of bodies not five feet away. Penny and Godfrey rolled round and round on the floor. At last, Jeff saw his opportunity and jabbed the knife into Godfrey's back, just to the side of his shoulder blade. The man howled in pain and staggered to his feet, twisting his arms in an attempt to dislodge the knife.

Jeff pulled Penny up next to him. "You okay?" he asked. She nodded, dabbing at her bleeding lower lip.

"Jeff! Look out!" Penny dove across him, wrapping her arms around his neck, as Godfrey raised his knife and struck, driving it deep into the flesh of her back. She screamed in pain before going limp in his arms.

"_No_! _Penny_!" He lowered her to the floor, sinking down with her, cradling her in his arms. "No," he whispered, holding her tightly, his lips against her hair. "No, Penny, no."

Just in front of them, Godfrey's half-smile turned into a grimace as he fell to his knees in a pool of his own blood. He grunted in pain before keeling over, landing on the floor with a sickening thud.

Jeff looked away from the unseeing eyes of their former ally. He couldn't help the tears that escaped his own eyes as he turned Penny's face toward his. "Penny, come on, don't do this to me. You can't. Please. Stay with me."

A loud moan from his right made Jeff turn. To his surprise, his engineer was coming to. "Brains! Help me!"

Brains groaned and struggled to roll over, then pushed himself to his hands and knees. It took a moment for his eyes to focus. The room seemed to be tilting slightly and his body hurt like hell. "M-M-Mis...Mist...Mister..." he stammered. Finally giving up, he just said, "Jeff?"

"Are you okay?" Jeff asked, looking back down at Penelope.

"Uh...think...so..." he groaned, pulling himself to his feet. Then his vision cleared and he saw the knife in Penny's back. "Oh, my God!" he cried, racing to kneel behind her. "What happened?"

"Help me, Brains. Don't let her die. Please don't let her die."

09:59:58

09:59:59

10:00:00


	11. Hour Eleven

**Hour Eleven**

_The following takes place between 10:00 a.m. and 11:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

10:00:20

Three International Rescue agents and two nurses wheeled Alan out of the ICU. A third nurse pushed the heart monitor, ventilator and two IV stands close behind. They entered the elevator and rose to the eighth floor, where they wheeled him down the hall, turning right and continuing on to the end. He was taken into a large room on the right and brought to a stop on the far side of it.

The room's one window was covered inside and out by white iron bars. This was the Security Ward, generally where suspects and prisoners who needed medical attention were housed. The nurses flitted here and there making certain Alan was completely set up. One of them approached the three agents.

"There are two prisoners in this ward right now," she said. "They've been taken to the rooms furthest away, 802 and 804. The south wing of this floor is currently used for storage. Our security guards have thoroughly searched it, and the gate leading to it is now locked. This floor cannot be reached without a security pass. You saw me swipe mine on the elevator."

"What about those two prisoners?" Agent 98 asked. "Are they dangerous?"

"One of them was injured during an attempted rape. His name is Joseph Baines. He was stabbed twelve times by the woman he attacked, and hasn't regained consciousness since he arrived."

"And the other?"

"Brenda Farnesworth. A case of road rage. She got so mad at some guy on the 95 that she slammed right into him with her car. She's paying for it, though. Her face was cut up pretty badly. She's been really quiet since she was brought in."

"All right," Agent 182 said. "We'll take it from here. Take 98 and show him where you'll be stationed."

"Yes, Sir. Right this way, please."

His eyes on Alan's prone form, 182 turned to the third agent, 164, and said, "Let's hope we can keep him safe."

10:10:51

Scott ran out of the elevator onto the fourth floor. He bolted to the nurse's station and demanded, "International Rescue operative, where is he?"

Taking in Scott's uniform, the nurse pointed to her right. "Down the hall, right hand side, it's the Training OR with the bay of windows on the wall."

Scott was already halfway down the hall before she finished. He skidded to a halt in front of the viewing window, not even noticing the three International Rescue agents standing outside the OR doors. Grabbing tightly to the railing in front of him, his eyes grew wide as he watched the doctor use a laser beam to close a foot-long gash in Virgil's right thigh. He saw the monitors, the nurses darting to and fro, the dried blood, and the soiled uniform that had been cut away and discarded on the floor. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to maintain his composure.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand touched his arm. His eyes snapped open to find Megan there with him. "How is he?" she asked.

"I don't know, I haven't talked to anyone."

"Well, he must be doing all right, they're very calm in there."

Scott nodded absently. All he could think of was an explosion, of Virgil flying through the air, of Virgil falling, of Virgil bleeding...of Virgil dying. His breath caught in his throat. "I have to know if he's okay."

"Hang on, I'll check with the nurse on duty." It was only a few minutes later that Megan returned, a smile on her face. "Good news, Scott. Virgil's going to be just fine. He landed on a car and a piece of glass went through his leg."

Scott winced.

"But they've removed all the glass, and Dr. Gray repaired his severed femoral artery. Dr. Shea's in there now, he just finished reconnecting the muscles and tendons. X-rays show no further injuries."

"So he's gonna be all right."

Megan nodded, a small smile upon her face. "They're going to take him up to the Security Ward after Dr. Shea is through. He's going to be placed in the same room as Alan."

"Alan?" Scott said, turning to face her. "He's up there now?"

"Yes, according to Nurse Blevins. He's been stabilized again and seems to be doing okay, all things considered."

Scott looked back through the window. Virgil was being sponged down. Dr. Shea removed his latex gloves and pulled his surgical mask down to his neck. He looked up, and his eyes met Scott's. He nodded and exited the room.

"Doctor," Scott said, shaking the man's hand. "How is he?"

"Oh, he'll be fine, son, don't you worry about that. He lost an awful lot of blood at first, from what the nurses tell me. But Dr. Gray patched that up for him. I've just finished with his leg. It'll take time and physical therapy, but I expect him to make a full recovery."

Scott smiled for the first time in a long time. "Thank you."

"No trouble at all, young man. It's the least I can do for you guys. I'm gonna kinda be a hero myself after working on your buddy there."

Scott and Megan chuckled before Scott spoke again. "Doctor, my other...buddy...Alan. He's in the Security Ward?"

"Ah, yes, so I hear. They're prepping this young fella to take him up there now. If you like, I'll let 'em know you can go with 'em."

He nodded.

"All right, then. Just hold tight, it'll be another twenty minutes or so."

"See, Scott? I told you he was going to be okay."

Waves of relief flooded through him as he leaned back against the wall. "Yeah, I know, Meg, I know. I just...I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to him."

Rubbing his arm gently, she replied, "Don't think about that now. It's going to be okay."

Scott passed a hand over his tired eyes and looked...really _looked_...at Megan Crawford for the first time. She stood about 5'8", he reckoned, and had somewhat long auburn hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her eyes were bright blue, almost the color of Alan's, he thought. She wore a pair of jeans and a blue pullover top, which still held traces of Alan's blood.

"Thanks," he finally said, squeezing her hand. "I'd better get in touch with..." he paused, "...with Base."

"Yeah, you should. I'm sure they'll want to know Virgil, Grandma and Alan are okay."

Scott nodded and walked down the hall to the waiting room. Megan stared after him. Truth be told, he was the most gorgeous man she'd ever laid eyes on. But at this point, being physically attracted to him was the last thing on her mind. She was more concerned about _him_. She turned back to the viewing window, where the nurses were easing Virgil into a hospital gown.

"Tell me things can't get any worse," she whispered.

10:21:15

"Brains..."

"One, uh, second, Mr. Tracy."

Jeff stood at the head of one of the beds in Tracy Island's hospital ward. It was a miniature replica of any of the best hospitals in the world, with everything imaginable that could be needed for medical care. He looked down at Penny, who lay on her stomach. Brains had cut her blouse away and removed the knife Godfrey had stuck in her back. It had taken several minutes for him to stop the bleeding, and he'd just taken CT scans of the region.

"Final scans look good, Mr., uh, Tracy," Brains said from a monitor across the room. "I-It looks like nothing, uh, major was damaged."

"Then why's she unconscious?"

"Probably the, uh, shock to her system, a-and the pain. W-We got that knife out just in time, though. O-One more movement and it could've, uh, hit her spinal column."

Jeff closed his eyes, his hand stroking Penny's soft blonde hair. He reopened them in time to see Brains come to his feet, then stagger backwards into the chair. "Brains!"

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes closed against the wave of nausea that shuddered through him. "M-M-Mis...Mister..."

Jeff raced to his side and grabbed hold of him to keep him from falling. "For God's sake, Brains, it's Jeff. Just Jeff."

Brains nodded, causing his stomach to lurch. He twisted away from Jeff just in time to expel the contents of his stomach all over the floor. He sank to his knees and kept dry heaving as Jeff came down next to him. With one hand, he rubbed Brains' back.

"God, Brains, I-I'm sorry."

"For..." _heave_ "...what..." _heave_

"I was so worried about Penny, I didn't even...are you okay?"

Deciding not to nod this time, Brains waited a few seconds for his stomach muscles to come under control. "S'okay, Mis...uh, Jeff. Must...have...a...concussion."

It was then that Jeff realized the exact state of his engineer. "Jesus! Your back!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah...it hurts."

"I can see why!" Most of the fabric of Brains' white polo had been burnt away in the explosion. There were blisters on both shoulder blades and down near the waistband of his pants. "Come on, get over here to a bed. I need to get some gel on those."

Jeff helped him to his feet and led him to the bed next to Penny's. Brains climbed up and sat down while Jeff opened a nearby cabinet and pulled out a tube of burn gel, then returned to the younger man and carefully began applying it to his wounds.

Brains flinched every time Jeff touched him. Thankfully, his stomach had settled down, and he found himself watching Lady Penelope's face. He was surprised a moment later when her eyelids fluttered open. Her blue eyes met his, and then looked beyond him to where Jeff stood, concentrating fully upon what he was doing.

"Uh, Mr...Jeff?"

"Yes, Brains?"

He tilted his head in Penny's direction. Jeff stopped in mid-swipe and looked over his shoulder. He was greeted with a dazzling smile, a smile that reached Penelope's eyes. "Penny," he said.

"Jeff," she breathed before slipping back into unconsciousness.

"She's gonna be okay," Jeff said, continuing his work on Brains' back.

"Yes, Sir. That she is."

"Thank you."

"O-Oh, no problem, uh, Jeff." Brains couldn't help but let his mind wander to the scene down in the lab. Jeff had been begging Brains to save her, begging him not to let her die. He'd been reacting like he was about to lose the most precious thing in his life. Reacting...like a man in love. Brains smiled.

_Well, I'll be damned,_ he thought.

10:28:14

Gordon paced the small room like a caged tiger. Yes, he'd succeeded in getting the door unlocked, but when he'd cracked it open for a peek outside, he'd found two of the thugs he remembered from New Zealand camped in the hall not fifteen feet away. Thankfully, they hadn't seen him open the door, and he'd shut it quietly. Now frustration and disappointment overwhelmed him.

"I can't believe I got it open and now I can't do anything but _sit_ here!" he complained to his unconscious companion. "Think, Gordo, _think_! You _know_ submarines! There's gotta be _something_!"

But he could think of nothing. From what he could tell, this room was in the aft section of the sub, which meant there was probably a rear escape hatch not too far away. If they did have DDS's aboard, though, they'd be closer the main airlock in the midsection. So even if he _did_ manage to get Tin-Tin out of the room, he'd have to make it all the way there without being seen, get her into a DDS, get into one himself and then try to make his getaway, towing her behind him.

Crouching on the floor next to where she slept on, Gordon reached out and shook her shoulder gently. "Come on, Tin-Tin, wake up. I can't do this if you're asleep. I just can't. I _need_ you." She moaned and stirred, raising his hopes. "Tin-Tin? Come on, wake up. Come on, Tin-Tin, you can do it."

Her eyes fluttered open, and once again she was met with total darkness. Was she still in that place? "Father?" she moaned.

Gordon frowned. Why would she be calling for Kyrano? "No, Tin-Tin. It's me, Gordon." He helped her sit up, holding her steady with his hands. "Tin-Tin, are you all right?"

She shook her head as the fog that had settled over her began to clear. "What? Gordon? Where am I?"

"You don't remember? We're on the sub."

"Oh...the sub...Father!"

"What about him?"

"He's alive, Gordon! He's alive! I saw him! I was with him, I spoke to him!"

"How? You've been here with me the whole time."

"No, not here. _There_. In the Great Void."

"Tin-Tin, are you sure you're okay?"

She smiled, one hand grasping his. "Yes, I am now."

"I got the door unlocked."

"You did?"

"Yes, but two of those men are out there. I don't see how we can get out without them noticing."

She came to her feet a bit unsteadily, Gordon supporting her all the way. "Let me have a look," she said.

He led her across the room and placed her hand on the latch. "Slowly," he whispered.

She opened the door a crack and peered out into the blinding light. It took some time for her eyesight to adjust, but at last she saw the two men Gordon had spoken of. One was smoking a cigarette and pacing the hall. The other seemed to be speaking angrily into a walkie-talkie.

"They're agitated," she whispered, closing the door again. "If I didn't know better, I'd say something's gone wrong."

Gordon smiled. "Go, Dad."

10:39:22

"This is Operation IR calling International Rescue. Come in, International Rescue."

"Receiving you, Ned."

"John. I just wanted to give you an update on things here."

"Okay, go ahead."

"Well, we've got nearly everyone accounted for and off to their destinations. The evacuating public seems to still be pretty calm. But the television stations are going crazy with people clamoring for International Rescue to give up the ghost."

"I know. I've been watching."

"Other than that, how are things going on your end?"

"Not the best, I'm afraid. Things have been pretty hectic."

"Scott Tracy calling Thunderbird 5."

"Hang on, Ned. Go ahead, Scott."

"John, I can't raise Dad. In fact, I can't raise _anyone_ back at Base. Have they been in touch with you?"

"No, Scott, haven't heard a peep. How's everybody back there?"

"Fine, just fine. They're about to take Virgil up to the Security Ward where Alan is, and Grandma will be joining us up there shortly. After I'm sure everything's under control, I'm gonna head over to the Danger Zone, check in with 53, and get The Mole and Thunderbird 2 under wraps."

"F.A.B. I've got Ned Cook on the line. He says things are going smoothly on his end."

"Well, that's good news. John, I'm worried about Dad. I can't even get Penny."

"All right, I'll work at raising them. Let you know as soon as I hear anything."

"Thanks. Scott out."

"Hey, Ned? Sorry about that." When he didn't get a reply, he said, "Ned? You there?"

"John! John! Something terrible's happened!"

_Oh, God, now what?_ he thought. "Ned, what're you talking about?"

"WNN got wind of what we're doing here. Damn that Phil Epstein!"

"Phil Epstein? What's going on?"

"They're broadcasting. Can you tune in WNN?"

"Yeah, hang on." John flipped one of his monitors over to WNN's broadcast frequency. There was a shot of LAX from a helijet, and Phil Epstein's voice could be heard.

_"...can't be certain what's going on, but WNN has learned that the group International Rescuees, formed nine years ago by Ned Cook of NTBS, have swarmed into Los Angeles International Airport. Jets belonging to Unity Airlines have been taking off at regular intervals, reportedly full of Rescuee members and their families. It looks like International Rescue and their supporters aren't going to take Acronym's threats lying down. Stay tuned to this station for further updates on this extraordinary development."_

"Dammit!" John bellowed, slamming his fist down onto the console. "Do you know what this means?"

"Jesus, John, I'm so sorry. I have no idea how he found out, I truly don't."

"It's not your fault, Ned. Something this big couldn't be kept secret forever. But still...can the International Rescuee members be identified in any way?"

"No. They were instructed to wear normal clothing. No one will know unless the aircraft they arrive in are identified as being ones that left here carrying IRee members. But, God, if Acronym is watching this..."

"I know, Ned, I know. Just keep things tight as you can on your end. I need to get hold of F...uh, Mr. Tracy."

"Right on. Let me know if you need anything from me."

John closed his eyes, trying to collect his thoughts. Then he opened the special line used for calling Base. "Thunderbird 5 to Base. Come in. This is an emergency. Thunderbird 5 to International Rescue. Come in, please!"

10:46:49

Having finished doing what he could for Brains, Jeff was now pulling a blanket up over Penny's bare back. Brains had sealed the knife wound with syntheskin, and she seemed to be resting comfortably. He happened to look down at his left wrist, and only then did he realize something was missing.

"My watch!" he said, clapping a hand to his arm. "It's gone! I must've lost it in the lab!"

Brains, who was pulling a clean shirt on over the bandages on his back, lifted his own wrist. "I-It looks like mine was, uh, damaged in the e-explosion."

"If the boys are trying to get hold of us...Brains, stay here with Penny for a minute."

"O-Okay."

Jeff raced out of the ward and headed for the Lounge. He cursed himself for not realizing sooner that his watch was gone. When he reached his destination, the eyes on John's vid portrait were flashing. He raced to his desk and jabbed the line open.

"Father! Thank God! What's goin' on down there?"

"Long story, John. We've had some trouble, but I think we're okay now."

"Father, I've got bad news."

Jeff blanched. "Mother? Virgil? Alan?"

"No, no, they're all fine, Scott just reported in from Arlington Hospital. Looks like they're all gonna pull through okay. Alan's secure and Virgil and Grandma are heading up to the Security Ward as well. Listen, Father, about International Rescuees..."

"What about 'em?"

"WNN found out about the operation at LAX. Phil Epstein's blabbing it to the world."

"No," Jeff breathed. "No!"

"Father, the Rescuees should be fairly safe, but if Acronym finds out we're fighting him..."

"Gordon. Tin-Tin. Oh, God." Jeff sagged into his chair. He ran a hand through his hair, thinking how ironic it was that he'd done the same thing not ten hours ago...and things had only gotten worse since then. "Penny and Brains have been injured."

"What? Are they okay?"

"They'll be fine. Brains is up and about, and he's tending to Penny. But I have to take Thunderbird 4 out, and I mean now."

"Father, you can't go alone!"

"I have no choice! Brains needs to stay here to work out that formula to counteract UH-3! And Penny's in _no_ condition to be traveling."

At that moment, Penelope and Brains appeared in front of the desk. Her hand was on his shoulder, and she wore a fresh, clean pink blouse.

"Penny, what're you doing out of bed?"

"Jefferson Tracy, if you think you're going to ditch me and take on that submarine yourself, you have another think coming."

"No way, Penny, it's out of the question. You just got stabbed, for God's sake!"

"Stabbed?" John exclaimed from the wall.

Penny turned to look at John, dazzling him with a brilliant smile. "Not to worry, John, I'm fine." Then she turned back to Jeff and faced him, eyes blazing. "Don't you tell me what to do, Jefferson Tracy. I am an International Rescue agent. Gordon and Tin-Tin's lives are in danger and you need help. I'm going with you."

Jeff opened his mouth to protest, but the look in her eyes told him this was a battle he wasn't going to win. He sighed and shook his head. "Brains, can you continue your work on the formula with the state the lab's in?"

"Uh, yes, Sir. I-I can get Braman to, uh, help me where necessary."

"Good. And check on Otayuki again. I locked him up tight in Containment 1, but I want to make sure he stays there."

"Yes, Sir," Brains replied as he headed for the elevator.

"Otayuki?" John asked.

"Later, John. I'll explain later. Right now, I want you to feed the coordinates of that sub to Thunderbird 4, and then get on with Scott and tell him to get back here as soon as he can."

"F.A.B."

"Tell him to bring Dr. Crawford with him. In spite of having Braman, I think Brains'll need the help."

"Okay, Father."

"And John?"

"Yes?"

"Tell Scott he's got to be 100 on Crawford before he brings her back here."

Understanding fully, John nodded. "F.A.B. Thunderbird 5 out."

Jeff turned his attention to the woman who stood straight as a pin in front of him. "Penny, you have got to be the most stubborn woman I have ever met."

"That's right, Jeff. I am. Now let's get down to Thunderbird 4. I feel like saving some lives."

10:58:52

"I hear voices," Gordon said.

"Yes, they're coming nearer."

Suddenly they heard a key in the lock. It rattled, and then loud cursing followed. The door banged open and all four thugs poured into the room. Two of them grabbed each of Gordon's arms, while the other two grabbed Tin-Tin's.

"So," the one named Greg said as he shook Gordon violently. "You got the door unlocked, huh? Very clever, International Rescue. But it's gonna take more than lock-picking to save your ass now."

Tin-Tin and Gordon exchanged frightened glances. "What are you talking about?" Gordon managed to ask.

Greg sneered. "Your father screwed up, rich boy. Now _I_ get to choose which one of you dies."

10:59:58

10:59:59

11:00:00


	12. Hour Twelve

**Hour Twelve**

_The following takes place between 11:00 a.m. and 12:00 p.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

11:00:21

As the nurses wheeled Virgil out of the OR, Scott rushed to his side. "Virg," he said softly as the group made their way to the elevator. All told, eight people besides Virgil boarded, making for a crowded ride to the eighth floor. Megan eyed Scott and then Virgil, and had the sudden fleeting thought that perhaps these two were more than friends because they were...well, _together_.

_God, I hope not. I can't imagine...they couldn't be **gay**! Goddammit, why are all the cute ones gay? No, I refuse to believe that...I won't believe it...it's something else...I can feel it... Then again, maybe it's just because I don't **want** him to be gay._

As they piled out of the elevator, she hung back, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what it was about all these operatives that nagged at her so, and wondering why she was wishing so fervently that Scott and Virgil weren't lovers. Suddenly, her pager went off. She studied the number carefully, but didn't recognize it. Wondering who on earth was trying to get hold of her, she made her way to a nearby pay-vidphone. She dialed the number, and it rang only once before someone picked up the line on Voice Only.

"Why, hello there, Dr. Crawford..."

11:04:02

"Thunderbird 4 to Base, initiating Emergency Launch procedure."

"F.A.B. Dr. Otayuki is, uh, still held tight in Containment One. Braman is ready to a-assist."

"Work fast, Brains."

"I-I am, Mr., uh, Jeff. I am. Good luck."

"Thanks. Thunderbird 4 out." Jeff turned to where Penny sat just behind him and to his right. She shifted in her seat as she buckled in, and winced. "Dammit, Penny, I knew you shouldn't have come along."

"Eyes on the road, Jeff. I'm fine."

He sighed and started up the small yellow submarine, more than aware it should be Gordon behind the controls and not him. "All right, hang on. Here we go."

Thunderbird 4 rose slightly on a cushion of air, and then moved quickly down Pod 4's ramp, through the hangar, out the secondary door and down the runway. Penny was amazed at their speed. Before she knew it, the end of the runway had tilted downward and they were diving into the sea.

"You know, I've never been in Thunderbird 4," she remarked.

"I don't go out in her much, I'm more of a flyboy by nature. But I stay up to speed on all the Thunderbirds. You know, just in case."

"Just in case of now."

He nodded, monitoring the instrument panel as they dove deeper and deeper into the murky depths of the Pacific Ocean. He turned on the front lamp and suddenly the world around them was illuminated, bringing light to a world few humans had experienced.

"It's beautiful," Penny breathed, leaving her seat and coming to stand next to Jeff. "No wonder Gordon loves it so much."

Jeff swallowed hard as her words hit home. He only prayed that he and Penelope made it to that sub before the Hood did.

11:09:16

The Hood stopped his subjet about two hundred feet away from his target, lowering the smaller craft to rest on the ocean floor behind a large underwater mountain. "Ah, there you are," he said to the large green square on his radar screen. "But are you really on board, Acronym?"

He considered his options. He could suit up and head over there, but breaking in would be difficult at best, even with his roving sphere and laser cutting equipment. He also desperately wanted to get his hands on Tin-Tin and probably, by default, the other operative that was with her...undoubtedly one of Jeff Tracy's sons. If _he_ held them instead of Acronym, he'd hold all the cards, and at last International Rescue's secrets could belong to him.

Suddenly an alarm sounded from the radar. He peered at the screen, where a smaller green square was moving in from the east. It was fast approaching the submarine. "Well, what do we have here?" he said, his brow furrowed. "Could this be International Rescue themselves, coming to save their own?"

It was an interesting prospect. The Hood decided to sit tight and wait to see what unfolded. If it did turn out to be Thunderbird 4, he'd be able to get his hands not only on Tin-Tin and the other hostage, but whoever was manning their craft as well as the small sub itself. Things were beginning to look brighter and brighter.

11:12:12

Aboard Thunderbird 4, Jeff happened to glance up at his companion, who was still admiring the scenery around them. "Penny," he said softly.

She turned her face toward him, saw the look in his eyes and smiled. "Think nothing of it, Jeff. You would have done the same for me."

"But you...you could've been killed."

Her hand came to rest on his arm. "As could you," she reminded him.

"You shouldn't have...Penny, it was stupid to do what you did."

"Nonsense. I'm not one to stand by and let those I care about die senseless deaths."

He turned back to look out the cockpit window. "Those you care about?" he said, his voice barely a whisper.

She crouched down so that she was eye level with him. "Look at me."

He did.

"Yes, Jeff. Those I care about. Especially if they don't do so well at looking after themselves."

He smiled. "You're crazy."

"Yes, I suppose I am. Jeff..." She hesitated, her hand squeezing his arm.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the moment was broken by a frantic voice ringing out over the airwaves.

"Thunderbird 5 to Thunderbird 4!"

Penny rose and returned to her seat as Jeff answered the call.

"Come in, John, what is it?"

"Father, I'm picking up a transmission coming from six hundred twelve feet west of your present location."

"A transmission?"

"Yes. It's coming from the unidentified sub. But...Father..."

"What?"

"Its destination...it's the hospital in Arlington."

11:16:52

"I don't know who you think I am, Mister. I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Come now, Dr. Crawford, you know _exactly_ what I'm talking about. My son was killed when that madman bombed Washington, D.C., and it's all International Rescue's fault! There's a hefty price on their heads, and you are in a unique position to benefit from such rewards."

"Listen, the only reason I'm here is because I'm a doctor. Doctors work in hospitals."

"You are a forensic pathologist. And you operate out of Black Hawk County, Iowa. Not Arlington, Virginia."

Megan started. How in the world did this man she was talking to know where she was from? The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Something about this didn't seem quite right. There was more to this man than a grieving father who wanted revenge.

"You're close to them. I know you are. All you have to do is get my men inside that hospital. That's all you have to do. And you'll be a very rich woman."

11:18:40

"Thunderbird 4 to Scott!"

Standing between Alan and Virgil's beds, Scott raised his wrist so he could see his com watch. "Scott here."

"Are you on a vidphone call?"

"What? No, I'm in Alan and Virgil's room. They're both stable, the nurses just left. I was about to call Agent 53."

"Scott, listen to me. We're about five hundred feet out from the sub we think Gordon and Tin-Tin are aboard. John's just picked up a direct transmission from that sub to where you are."

"What?" Scott looked around the room and suddenly realized someone was missing. "Megan!"

"Find out who's on the line with that sub!"

Scott was out of the room before his father had even finished. He instructed two of the agents outside the door to stay in the room with his brothers, and told the remaining agent to get to the nurse's station and have them locate the source of the incoming call. He raced down the hall and rounded the corner. Clear down at the other end, he saw a sight that made his blood run cold.

Megan Crawford was standing in front of the vidphone on the wall.

"No," he whispered. "It can't be."

11:22:14

Tin-Tin and Gordon had been manhandled through the submarine into the control room. All was quiet for several long minutes until a man emerged from the Ready Room at the opposite end and came to stand in front of them.

"Very nice to meet you at last, Gordon Tracy," he said. Gordon just looked at him. "And you, Miss Kyrano. So lovely of you to have joined our little party."

"Who are you?" Gordon finally asked.

The man bowed slightly. "I am Acronym."

Tin-Tin gasped.

"I am afraid your father has made a grave mistake. It's such a shame, too. You really were my best hostage. But I suppose this young lady will have to do."

"What are you talking about?" Gordon asked in a near-whisper.

"I understand that Greg here has decided _you_ shall be the one to die."

"No!" Tin-Tin cried, struggling against her captors.

Gordon's face remained unreadable as he said quietly, "My father will never give in to you."

"Not even if I kill his son?"

"Killing me will get you nowhere except higher on his shit list."

Acronym laughed. "Ah, you are so much like your father, it almost pains me to have to let this happen. But Jefferson must learn that there are consequences to his actions. As it is, I fear two of your brothers are already lying on their death beds."

"What?"

"Oh, yes, that's right, you've been locked away for so long, you've no idea what's going on, do you? Unfortunately, my operative failed in his attempt to kill your youngest brother Alan. But I think my new friend, the good doctor who has so gracefully ingratiated herself into the fold, will be coming through for me at any moment."

Large tears streamed down Tin-Tin's face as Gordon's shoulders sagged.

"You see, young Gordon, there truly is no way out of this for your family. Soon Virgil, Scott and Alan will be mine. I do apologize for what Greg is about to do to you, but all is fair in love and war."

"My father will _kill_ you," Gordon hissed as Greg and another thug dragged him out of the control room.

"Valiant to the end," Acronym replied as they disappeared from view.

"No! Gordon! No! You can't do this! You can't do this! Take me instead! Kill me!" Tin-Tin cried, fighting to free herself from the strong hands on her arms.

"Oh, no, my dear," he said, cupping her face with his hand. "You are _much_ too pretty to kill. Once this is all over, I have a feeling we're going to hit it off rather well."

"When hell freezes over!" she spat, jerking her head away. "Gordon," she whispered as he laughed and retreated to the Ready Room. "Oh, God. Gordon. No."

11:31:59

"Megan!" Scott called out as he ran down the length of the corridor. "Megan, what are you doing?" She jumped and turned to look in his direction. He reached her in no time and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Who were you on the phone with?" he demanded, shaking her, barely concealing his fury.

"Scott, what--? Stop, stop it!"

His grip on her tightened. "Megan, _who_ were you talking to?"

"I-I don't know, Scott. Listen to me, listen! You, the others, they're in danger!"

"What are you talking about?"

"A man, he paged me," she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth almost faster than she could think. "When I called the number, he answered, he told me his son was killed in the attack on D.C. and that a price had been put on your heads!"

Scott let go of her and took a step back. "What?"

"It's one of the nurses, they're working for him. He knows everything, he knows the three of you are here...and Scott...he called you...he called you brothers."

He paled, his jaw dropping, then closing. He had no idea what to say to that. "What--why--why was he calling you?"

"He wanted me to get his men inside the hospital. He offered me an obscene amount of money," she said, her eyes pleading with him to believe her. "He knows I'm from Iowa, he knew so much!"

His mask slipping into place, Scott asked, "What did you tell him?"

"Nothing," she said quietly. "Only that I would do it."

"You did _what_?" He turned away from her, fighting the anger that surged within him.

"Scott, it was the only way!" she said, reaching out to touch his arm.

"How could you?" he said, shaking her hand off. "I trusted you."

"You still can. Scott, I'm not going to betray you! It was the only way I could get him to tell me which nurse was working for him!"

He turned around, eyeing her warily. "And then what were you going to do? Join that nurse and take us at gunpoint?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "Scott, no. I know in your business it's hard to trust anyone. I understand that. But you _have_ to believe me. I had no intention of going through with it."

"You're just backpedaling because I caught you red-handed."

"No. I'm not. I'll prove it to you."

"How?" he ground out.

Megan turned and headed for the ladies room, Scott following her closely. When they entered, she went to the second stall and crouched in front of the toilet. Reaching around behind it, she struggled with something for a moment before it came free. She turned around to face him. In her outstretched hand she held a laser pistol.

"I was supposed to take this, go find the nurse and get down to the loading dock to let his men in."

Scott looked into her eyes. He wanted so badly to believe her; to believe she'd never intended to do whatever it was the caller had asked her to. He reached out and took the gun from her hand, ripping the duct tape off it. "Which nurse were you supposed to meet?"

"Someone called Franklin. Joanna Franklin. Scott, please...you _do_ believe me."

"I don't know what to believe," he said. "Where were you supposed to find this Nurse Franklin?"

"Fourth floor, OR 2."

"Then let's go," he said, waving the gun between her and the door.

Megan silently went ahead of him. _What have I done?_ she thought. _What have I done?_

11:42:10

Jeff brought Thunderbird 4 down just one hundred feet from the medium-sized submarine that rested on the ocean bed. He turned to Penelope, who'd risen from her seat. "Are you ready for this?"

"What are we going to do, Jeff?"

"I don't know for sure. I don't want to risk injuring Gordon and Tin-Tin by firing on the sub. But maybe if I just damaged her so she couldn't get away..."

"Jeff!" she exclaimed, pointing out the front cockpit window. "What's that?"

His gaze followed her finger, and then he cut Thunderbird 4's lights. "It's another sub." They watched as a small, dark blue mini sub rose from behind an underwater mountain not three hundred feet in front of them. Without warning, Thunderbird 4's alarms began to wail. "Dammit! He's readying weapons!" Jeff said, gunning her motors. "We've got to get out of here!"

"Who is it?" she asked, holding tightly to the back of his chair.

"It's gotta be the Hood," he replied as Thunderbird 4 began to rise. "I can't just _leave_!" he ground out. "I can't!" The radar began to blip. "Strap in, Penny! Incoming!" Jeff jerked the yoke to the right, and Thunderbird 4 veered sharply, causing Penny to fall back into her seat. The torpedo screamed past, exploding into the rock face behind them. Jeff opened 4's front panel and two large barrels emerged.

Penny struggled to get her buckles fastened as Jeff fired his first shot. It just missed the intruding sub's tail section. The turbulence forced it to turn nose first and sink to the sand below. Just then, the larger sub's engines roared to life, turbines churning the water around them.

"No!" Jeff yelled. He took aim at one of the turbines and fired. His missile hit home, and the turbine blasted off the hull, shooting through the water and disappearing into the darkness. To his surprise, the small sub rose up as the larger one struggled to raise itself with only one working engine. "What the hell is he doing?"

They watched as it made its way toward the top of the mountain it had been hiding behind. The larger one continued its ascent, nose pointing directly at the mountain. Soon it had reached the peak, and climbed higher still. The Hood turned his craft and faced his enemy down. Thunderbird 4's klaxon sounded again as the submarine prepared to fire. But just as it did, the Hood's sub rose vertically, putting it out of harm's way.

Five long minutes passed as the blip on Jeff's radar screen that represented the huge torpedo streaked away. Jeff sank bank, watching it in disbelief. There was nothing he could do. Nothing at all. Then they heard an explosion the likes of which sent chills down their spines and into their very marrow. The ocean bed shook violently, shockwaves slamming into Thunderbird 4.

Her back screaming out in protest at being tossed about so violently, Penny managed to gasp, "What happened?" as the larger submarine, its second engine failing, began to sink.

"I don't know," Jeff replied. "That torpedo's hit something but good." Fighting Thunderbird 4's controls to keep her on keel, he checked the longitudinal map on one of the monitors and all color drained from his face.

"Jeff? What is it?"

"Fiji," he breathed in disbelief. "The Lau Group. My God."

He moved the yoke and Thunderbird 4 began rising through the water. Up and up and up she went until at last she broke through the surface. What Jeff and Penny saw stopped both their hearts.

For not five miles in front of them, a large plume of smoke and water rose into the air. Tidal waves careened into Thunderbird 4, engulfing her, tossing the small craft like a child's toy.

"What's happening?"

"It must have hit the rock bed on the outer islands, the Laus. God, Penny. The people. The people!"

11:54:06

Gordon was led back to the room he and Tin-Tin had shared earlier. He'd tried everything he could to escape the two thugs who had him, but at last Greg had cold-cocked him, sending his world tumbling out of control. He was barely conscious when they dragged him into the room, turning the light on from a panel outside the door.

Greg had spent the better part of the last fifteen minutes trying to bring Gordon to his senses on the premise that he wanted him fully aware when he met his end. He'd just begun regaining his balance when the floor jerked beneath them, sending all three sprawling to the floor. Two machine pistols flew from two hands. One landed right near Gordon's face and he grabbed it, fighting to make his brain work, fighting to gather his wits, to try and make sense of what was happening.

"What the hell was that?" Greg yelled.

"We've been hit!" the other thug replied. "Where's my gun?"

"Over here, asshole," Gordon said, his voice low and menacing. He'd scooted back along the floor and propped himself up against the wall. He now held the thug's gun level with his eyes as the sub tilted backwards. Gordon planted his feet on the floor, trying to keep from slipping. Truth be told, he was seeing about three thugs and, to his right, about four Gregs.

"Get him, Paul! He won't shoot you, he's a member of International Rescue."

"Don't bank on it," Gordon replied, swinging the gun in Greg's direction. He could tell by the sound of the motors that one engine had gone dead, while the other struggled to level the ship. Then another sound came to his ears.

The sub was taking on water.

Quick as lightning, Greg launched himself forward and grabbed his gun from the floor. He landed on his back and turned to where Gordon had been leaning against the wall. "What the--? Where'd he go?"

Before he or Paul could react, the door clanged shut. They heard the lock click, and both men sprang to their feet.

"No!" they cried in unison, pounding against the metal bulkhead. "No!"

Their cries sounded faint to Gordon as he closed his eyes and staggered back into the door. The hall was spinning and he couldn't make it stop no matter what he did. He sank to his knees, the gun in his hand falling to the floor. Stomach twisting and turning, he fell forward, hands stopping him momentarily until his arms gave out and he landed on the floor face-first, air whooshing out of his lungs.

The last thing he saw was the water rising to meet him.

11:59:58

11:59:59

12:00:00


	13. Hour Thirteen

**Hour Thirteen**

_The following takes place between 12:00 p.m. and 1:00 p.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

12:00:13

_"...it's hard to believe I know. Ladies and Gentlemen, for those of you just tuning in, you are watching a live feed from a local television station in Fiji. There's been an explosion of some sort, an atomic explosion. You can see the cloud rising into the sky. We're hearing from this local station that the explosion occurred beneath the Lau Group of islands off the east coast of the main Fijian islands."_

Ned stared at the monitor in disbelief. Fiji? Could this have anything to do with Acronym? It couldn't. He had never threatened Fiji.

_"One moment...one moment, please. This station is receiving a call from a Fijian resident. Can we put this call through? Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, on the line right now is Loaloa Itau. Sir, go ahead."_

A second voice was soon heard. A voice with an accent that seemed strange to Ned's ears.

_"Oh, it is terrible, terrible! The destruction in the Fijian islands is catastrophic! Almost every island is shaking, the earthquakes...the people. I saw it...I saw it with my own eyes. I saw who is responsible for this, for such chaos here in my country!"_

Phil Epstein's voice was the next heard. _"Sir? Mr. Itau? Who is it? Who's responsible?"_

Itau's next words stopped Ned's heart.

_"International Rescue! It was one of their Thunderbirds! Can no one stop them? Why didn't they just do what that man told them to? Why? Why do my people have to--"_

_"Ladies and Gentlemen, I apologize...we have lost both the caller and our live feed from Fiji, undoubtedly due to the massive earthquakes now rocking the area. You heard what he said..."_

"No," said Ned. "It can't be." All energy left him as he deflated into a nearby chair. "There has to be some mistake." And then a thought occurred to him. The name the caller had used. "Loaloa Itau?" He turned and dialed a number on the vidphone. A beautiful, dark-skinned woman with curly black hair answered.

"Ned! Why on earth are you calling me?"

"Adi," he breathed. It had been so long since he'd seen her...he gave himself a good mental shake. He couldn't think of that right now. "Adi, listen to me, I'm sorry, but I need to know something."

"Always after your story. After all these years, you can't even say hello."

God, but she was beautiful. What a fool he'd been to let her go. What an utter fool. "Adi, please, I'm sorry. I need to know...Loaloa Itau. What does it mean? It's urgent, please."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Ned Cook, you will never change. Loaloa means black. Itau means friend. Why?"

His face changed from soft remembrance to confusion as his mind considered her words. "Black friend?"

"Yes. Why are you asking?"

"You're not watching WNN?"

"Oh, no," she said slyly. "I never watch anything but NTBS."

"Very funny, Adi. That's the name of a guy who called WNN," he explained, not wanting to get into the specifics of what was happening in Adi's homeland. She'd find out soon enough.

"A name?"

He nodded.

"That's an awfully strange name. Calling someone _loaloa itau_ in Fiji is like calling someone a backstabber here in the States. Like a false friend. Ned, what's going on?"

"Adi, I'm sorry, I have to go. I'll call you." Before she could even reply, he'd severed the line. "Backstabber...false friend...it couldn't be. Could it?"

He turned an ear back to the television screen in time to hear Phil say, _"Could International Rescue be responsible for this? If so, how? I didn't get the chance to ask this man why he thought International Rescue was involved. Should we believe Loaloa Itau's words? Should International Rescue just give themselves up? Even if they aren't to blame for what's happening now in Fiji, what right have they to put peoples' lives in danger for the sake of their own supposed security? Stay tuned to WNN for further developments."_

"That stupid, opinionated, ignorant, sonofa--!" Ned sprang from his chair, knocking it over in the process. He began pacing the floor as a handful of people milled about, staring at him like he'd lost his mind. "There has to be _something_ I can do!" he mumbled. "It's all falling apart. It's all falling apart! They didn't cause that explosion. They _couldn't_ have!"

He walked the floor and walked the floor until at last a woman in her fifties approached him. "Mr. Cook?" He stopped in mid-stride and stared blankly at her. "Mr. Cook? I'm Rose Turner, a fellow IRee. What's happened?"

Ned just shook his head. His throat seemed to have tightened. He felt so helpless. So damned helpless.

"We just arrived, Mr. Cook. Me and my son Barry. We, uh, we came by hydrofoil."

That got Ned's attention. "Hydrofoil?" he repeated. "How fast does it go?"

"Uh, I don't know for sure. Barry! Barry, come over here!"

An athletic-looking man sporting dark hair and a mustache approached them. "What's up, Ma?"

"Mr. Cook, this is my son, First Lieutenant Barry Turner of the World Navy." They shook hands as she continued. "Barry, how fast does that hydrofoil of yours go?"

"Nearly three hundred miles per hour," he replied proudly.

"Barry, Mrs. Turner," Ned said, laying a hand on each of their shoulders. "You've just gotten yourself an assignment."

12:05:27

The Hood thanked the spirits for his good luck. Thunderbird 4 had gotten away, but he'd escaped unharmed, and the sub holding the hostages was now damaged and, more than likely, taking on water. That meant chaos on board, which meant he could now carry out his plans.

He suited up and exited the airlock of his sub, which he'd brought to rest on the other side of the mountain again. The ocean bed shook beneath him, but he gave not one single thought to what that meant for the islands of Fiji. He rounded a crag in the rock and headed for the downed sub. Now was his moment of triumph. He could almost taste success.

He didn't see the small shadow descending a few hundred yards away.

12:07:12

"Father!"

"John, tell me what I think just happened, didn't."

"Father, I--I--yes, yes, the torpedo, it's hit the continental shelf beneath the Laus. But Dad, the news!"

"News? What news?"

"It's bad, Dad, it's real bad. Some guy from Fiji got on the line and said International Rescue was to blame for what's happened over there. Phil Epstein's yanking everyone's chains that we're responsible!"

"He's _what_?"

"Oh, Jeff, no," Penny breathed.

"John, get hold of Ned Cook, and fast. Tell him we didn't fire that torpedo, tell him it was the sub holding the hostages...tell him anything, just get him on the air!"

"F.A.B. What're you gonna do, what's going on down there?"

"I'm going back down. I blasted one of the turbines off; she's probably taking on water. I have to get to Gordon and Tin-Tin!"

"What about the Hood, Dad?"

Jeff growled. "If he gets in my way, he's gonna regret ever having _heard_ of International Rescue."

12:12:43

"Well, where is she?"

"I don't know. This is where I was told to meet her."

Scott wouldn't look directly at Megan no matter what. All she could do was lean against the operating table while Scott hid behind the portable X-ray machine.

"Scott, please, I can't--" She was cut off in mid-sentence as the door to OR 2 opened. There stood a full-fledged nurse, white uniform, hat and all...with a gun in her hand. Megan froze, suddenly afraid.

"You Dr. Crawford?" the nurse asked. Megan nodded. "Joanna Franklin. Come with me. We have to hurry."

Having no idea what Scott was or wasn't up to, Megan scurried out of the room with Nurse Franklin. They headed for the elevator as Franklin put the gun into her uniform pocket. "Canton's real generous with the payouts, isn't he?" she said.

"Canton?" Megan said as they stepped into the elevator.

"Oh, he must've used his alias with you. Acronym."

Her eyes went wide and she just stared at the nurse, who whistled a nondescript tune as the elevator began to descend. "Acronym," she breathed.

Franklin raised an eyebrow at her companion. "Can you shoot to kill if you have to?"

"Uh," Megan swallowed, her throat dry, "sure I can."

"Good."

Megan thought for a moment, then an idea came to her. Changing her demeanor slightly, she said, "How'd _you_ get this work?"

"Why do you wanna know?"

"Well, I don't know. I guess it's just that I sure coulda used this kind of money a few months back, and if there's a train I can get on somewhere after this is all over, I wanna know how to buy a ticket."

Franklin smiled knowingly. "Oh, it's easy if you know the right people. You'd be surprised how you meet 'em. For example, I met Canton right here. He came in with acute appendicitis. I was on midnight shift."

"And what, the two of you just started talking about smuggling guns into the hospital?"

She laughed. "Yeah, something like that. He had a lotta money, I told him I could use some, we got to talking, one thing led to another and he hired me."

"But where'd you learn to shoot a gun?"

"Oh, Michael paid for everything. You?"

Megan hesitated only a moment before replying, "My father taught me. He was big on guns."

The elevator ground to a halt. Joanna stood in front of the opening doors. "Get ready."

Megan pulled the laser pistol from her back pocket, thankful Scott had decided to let her keep it. It wouldn't look very good if she had to stammer some excuse as to why she didn't have the damn thing. It probably wouldn't bode well for her health, either. Not to mention the fact that in spite of her earlier statement, she barely knew how to hold a gun, let alone aim and fire.

"I don't get it," Megan said as they exited the elevator. "If Acronym had you on the inside, why did he need me?"

At that moment, Scott sprang out of the stairwell, his own machine pistol aimed right at them. In a flash, Franklin whirled around and grabbed Megan, whose pistol clattered to the floor. She held one arm around Megan's neck, nearly crushing her windpipe.

"He only needed you for one thing," the nurse replied, training the gun on her head and staring directly at Scott. "Insurance."

12:16:15

Gordon choked himself awake, spluttering and coughing as water tried to go down his windpipe. He jerked into a sitting position, wiping the expelled water from his mouth and nose. It took only seconds for him to realize the sub was in trouble. Water had risen in the hall until it was nearly a foot deep to his left. The corridor to his right was still dry. He turned and looked at the door behind him. He heard nothing but silence. At first he wondered if he should see whether or not Greg and Paul were all right.

But what if he went to look in on them, only to find them lying in wait? They'd overpower him for sure this time. And Tin-Tin needed him. _To hell with my humanity,_ he thought. Slowly he turned from the door and walked away.

12:18:00

Tin-Tin lifted herself up off the floor. The two thugs who'd been holding her were knocked out, having been thrown back into the floor-to-ceiling computer-generated map behind them. She looked toward the Ready Room as she came to her feet, wondering where Acronym was. Then another thought entered her mind.

"Gordon!" Stepping over one of the thug's bodies, she saw he had a laser rifle strapped to his shoulder. _I might need that,_ she thought. She gingerly began unstrapping it, only to have the thug begin moaning, his head rolling from side-to-side. Undaunted, Tin-Tin methodically pushed the strap beneath its fastener, blessing her father for teaching her patience and calm above all else.

Just as the strap came loose, the man's hand reached out and grabbed her arm. She shrieked and did the only thing that came to mind: brought the butt of the rifle down onto his head. She just stared in surprise for a moment as he went limp, his hand flopping to the floor. "I'm getting dangerous," she said aloud as she made her way to the door. "Now to find Gordon."

Tin-Tin stopped in the hall and closed her eyes. She'd found Gordon's mind once before. Could she do it again?

12:24:17

"All right, Penny, that sub's pretty badly damaged, but she's probably taking water on slowly from the looks of it. We need to get over there. Why don't you get changed while I scan for the Hood's vessel?"

Nodding, Penny headed back into Thunderbird 4's midsection and pulled two DDS's and two skin suits from the hold. She stripped down to her underwear and began pulling a skin suit over her legs. The knife wound hurt terribly, but she bucked up and pushed the pain aside. _Jeff needs me,_ she thought. _I'm not going to fail him now._ By the time she got herself zipped up, Jeff was knocking on the door.

"Come in," she called, reaching for a DDS. It was with no small amount of pleasure that she noticed Jeff averting his eyes. After all, the thermal suit she'd just put on was like a second skin, conforming to every nook and cranny of her body.

He cleared his throat as he reached for the remaining suits. "You're certain about this. About coming with me."

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," she replied, sliding her legs into the bulky DDS.

He stopped and looked into her eyes for only a moment. "Good," was all he said. She didn't even get a chance to ask if he'd found the Hood's sub, for he had disappeared back into the cockpit. She couldn't help but smile.

12:28:41

Brains toiled away at his workbench, duly noting that with each passing minute, his head hurt a little more...with each passing minute, he felt hotter and hotter...with each passing minute, the beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead grew larger and more persistently dripped onto the table beneath him. He looked sidelong where, not two feet away, Braman, his android robot, was mixing together what was to become part of the compound he needed to stop the surface of the UH-3 bombs from eroding.

"Braman," he said, his voice small and quiet.

"Yes?" came the tinny response.

"I don't...I don't feel so good."

"Are you ill?"

"I...I think so...God, what...what...?" The room began to spin again, like it had when he'd collapsed in the hospital ward. "Oh...oh, no..." he said, his voice quivering. "I-It's not...a...concussion...it's...it's...the C-60...oh, no...Braman...call...J-J...Joh..."

Braman watched in confusion as his creator fell to the floor. He cocked his head and knelt down beside him. "Message not complete. Brains," he said, reaching one mechanical arm out to touch his back. "Brains. Wake up. Wake up, Brains."

But Brains did not move.

12:32:04

Ned found himself sitting next to Rose Turner in one of five seats behind the pilot's chair occupied by her son, Barry. They were speeding away from the coast of California. Ned thought at any moment he might just turn green, the water was so choppy. And Barry was going so _fast_.

"How'd you get your hands on this thing?" Ned asked, trying to forget his penchant for being seasick.

"Well, Mr. Cook, I guess you could say I, uh, _borrowed_ it."

"Borrowed it? As in, without permission?"

"Yes, Sir!" he grinned, mock-saluting the reporter. "Once Ma got the call from the IRee board, she told me she had to get to California fast. When you live in Hawaii, this hydrofoil's the way to go!"

"Seems top of the line."

"Oh, it is! Only the best for the World Navy, you know! It's the VDHP16 model, fastest hydrofoil the Navy's got."

"VDHP?"

"Vertically Dampened Hydrofoil Prototype."

"Did you say Prototype?"

"Yes, Sir."

"You mean it's not in production?"

"No, Sir. We've been testing her out for a couple of weeks now."

"Oh, God," Ned moaned, sinking back into his seat and adjusting his life jacket straps.

"She's sixty feet long, ten feet wide and ten feet high. Top speed three hundred forty miles per hour. Although, I've personally never done above three hundred."

"How fast are you going now?"

Barry looked down at the gauge, then shot a smile at Ned. "Nearly three-ten!"

Ned closed his eyes. "Dear God in heaven."

"What'cha gonna do out in the middle of the ocean when we get there?"

"You mean _if_ we get there," Ned mumbled.

"What?"

"I said I have no idea. All I know is that International Rescue's in trouble out there."

"And how do you think we're going to be able to help?" Rose asked.

"Well...I haven't exactly thought that far ahead..."

12:34:48

The Hood moved toward the damaged portion of the sub, whose name was printed along its hull. "Poseidon Seven," he intoned appreciatively. "How ironically appropriate." Upon investigation, however, he found the hole too small for him to squeeze through in the bulky DDS he wore. "I see I shall have to do this the hard way."

He pulled a metal rectangular box closer to his body and opened it up. Inside was something that looked like a blowtorch, but was in reality a powerful laser cutting device. He let the box drop to the sand beneath him and turned the laser on, directing it around the one-foot breach in the sub's hull. He knew that cutting a larger area into it would also cause the ship to take on more water. But what did he care? After all, he was wearing a suit. If the rest of the ship's complement perished, it would only make his job that much easier.

Suddenly he stopped. He flicked the laser off and closed his eyes. He was feeling something...no, some_one_. "Ah," he breathed at last. "My niece. So, you are still alive." Turning the laser back on, he began his work anew. "Kyrano, my brother. You fear so for the lives of those pathetic fools in International Rescue. What will you do when I have taken your daughter for my own?"

12:37:38

Gordon made his way along the hall. The pistol he'd had before was now soaking wet, and rendered useless. Discarding it along the way, he forged ahead. How was he ever going to find Tin-Tin? He groaned as his head throbbed mercilessly. The last place he'd seen her was the control room, but who knew where Acronym had taken her? And what if he had her now? Without a weapon, Gordon felt despair begin to creep into his mind...and something else.

He was brought up short when he heard a voice. But the voice wasn't coming from anywhere around him. The lights in the hall flickered as it came.

_Gordon. Gordon, can you hear me? Gordon, where are you?_

"Tin-Tin?" he said aloud. The lights flickered once more before giving out completely.

_Gordon?_

"Tin-Tin!" he called out.

_Gordon, you're alive! You're alive! The lights...where are you?_

"Here! I'm here!"

_Gordon, help me find you. Please. Concentrate._

"I don't believe this. If I ever tell anyone about this, they're gonna think I'm nuts," he said, closing his eyes. He allowed one thought to fill his mind...a picture of the hall he was standing in as he'd last seen it before the power failure. He concentrated on every little detail he could remember, thinking as hard as he possibly could, doubting at all that it was going to work.

_You're...you're in the hall...the hall near the room we were kept in...I'm coming, Gordon. I'm coming!_

Gordon's eyes popped open. "Well, I'll be damned. It worked."

12:40:32

Having been forced to drop his weapon and kick it aside, Scott now found himself seated in a small storage closet, his hands and Megan's tied together behind their backs. They'd been working at the knots wordlessly for long minutes now, and both pairs of wrists had begun to chafe from the rope. Finally, Scott spoke.

"I'm sorry," he said simply, as his fingers found the largest knot.

"Don't worry about it. You don't know me from Adam."

"Or Eve," he replied, his fingers slipping. "Damn! I can't even reach my watch to activate the emergency beacon. Can you hit it?"

"No...don't think so," she grunted. "My hands aren't in the right place."

"We've gotta get outta here."

"I'm trying."

"Meg, if Franklin gets those men inside..."

"I know, I know. Don't worry, your brothers will be okay. We'll get to them in time." There was a moment's silence before she continued. "Scott, what he said...what Acronym said to me about Virgil and Alan. That they're your brothers. That _is_ true."

He sighed as his fingers found the knot again. The strict code of security his father had drilled into him...into _all_ of them...kept him from replying.

"And John, and one of the hostages...they're your brothers too, aren't they?"

He didn't answer.

"So Grandma really _is_ your grandma."

Again, silence.

"And Jeff. He's your father."

On the one hand, Scott regretted the fact that their secret was now known to her. On the other hand, however, he was glad she knew. It meant there was one more person he didn't have to guard his tongue around...at least not where his family was concerned. If he chose to acknowledge her statements as correct, that is.

"It's okay, you don't have to say anything. I was kinda hoping it was true."

"That what was true?"

"You guys were brothers."

"Why?"

"Well, the way you were so worried about Virgil...you know..."

Scott thought for a moment, then blushed furiously. "Oh. Yeah. I see."

"Well, you know, given the alternatives...what can I say..." Her fingers bumped into his. "Sorry."

"You know, I think we'd do much better at this if we worked together."

"Agreed. I've never been tied up back-to-back with someone before, though. Any suggestions?"

"My sash," he said, mentally kicking himself for not remembering it sooner. "There's a small Swiss Army knife stowed on the inside of it."

"Okay, where in your sash?"

"Right side, on my waist. You think you can reach it?"

"I can sure as hell try, if you don't mind my teeth being that close to you. Hang on."

Meg twisted her body to the left, wrenching her arms and Scott's painfully between them. He groaned as she strained her head around until it rested against his arm.

"God, I think I've dislocated my shoulder," she said, moving her head down until she reached his elbow. "Okay, now whereabouts is this knife?"

"Straight down from where you are," he replied.

She moved lower, using her lips to feel along the fabric until she felt the harder material of the sash.

"About an inch to your right," he said. "And watch what you do with those teeth."

She snorted as she pushed herself forward, knocking down a large broom in the process. She heard it thunk and then rattle to the floor.

"Ow!" he cried. "That was my head!"

"Sorry," she ground out as her teeth grabbed the edge of the sash.

"Yeah, that's it...right there. Can you feel it?"

"Mm-hmm," she replied, twisting the sash inside-out. She moved quickly to grab the knife...and got a chunk of Scott's body along with it.

"Youch!" he yelped. "Watch it!"

"Awwee," she mumbled around the knife in her mouth.

"Jesus! That'll leave a mark. Can you get it into my hands?"

"Mah fink so." Holding the knife with her lips, she aimed for the spot between their backs and took a deep breath. Then she poofed it out of her mouth, and it fell into his waiting hands.

"Eww," he said.

"What?" she grunted, pulling herself upright. She heard the clicking of the blade as Scott opened it. "You'd better not cut me."

"Yeah, well, you know what they say about payback."

"Scott Tracy..."

"What?" he said. And then he realized his mistake. He'd just answered to his full name. _Well, I guess she just got her answer._ "You're a slick one."

"Just get us out of here. You can reprimand me later."

12:56:25

Tin-Tin moved through the hall, using her hands and feet to feel her way along. She vaguely recalled the route used to reach the control room, but was using her wavering connection to Gordon as most of her guidance, trying to hone in on his location. She sensed that he was moving as well, bringing himself closer and closer to her. Her heart leapt when at last she heard a noise further ahead.

"Gordon?" she called out. When no reply was forthcoming, she froze. Lifting the rifle, she tried again. "Gordon?" Something began moving toward her. She could it see it. Or rather, could see _them. _Squinting in the darkness, she said, "Who's there?"

The two glowing objects came closer and closer. They bobbed up and down slightly, almost as though...as though they were being held by someone walking. What could they be? Lights of some sort? Was it one of the thugs? If it was Gordon, why wasn't he answering?

Suddenly a figure came into view. A rather tall figure. And the glow...the glow was coming from...a pair of eyes. A wave of panic washed over her as she realized who it was. Realized it seconds too late...

12:59:48

Kyrano sat bolt upright in his hospital bed, ripping the electrodes from his body in the process. His eyes widened in horror as the monitors around him started blaring their alarms in protest at the loss of a heartbeat.

"No," he whispered, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "No. Not my daughter. Not Tin-Tin. Please! No!"

Two nurses bolted into the room and were on either side of him in an instant. They spoke, but he didn't hear their words. All he could hear was her voice inside his head, crying out, terrified beyond reason.

"Tin-Tin!" he cried, struggling to free himself from the two women who were trying to calm him. "_Tin-Tin_!"

12:59:58

12:59:59

01:00:00


	14. Hour Fourteen

**Hour Fourteen**

_The following takes place between 1:00 p.m. and 2:00 p.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

01:00:48

Jeff and Penny made their way across the short distance between Thunderbird 4 and the submarine. Penny was having a somewhat tougher time than he, due to her inexperience with diving in general, and stuffed into a DSS in particular. But she fought hard to keep up with him, determined to do everything she could to be an aid and not a hindrance. Her back had begun to ache, though, and she started wishing she'd taken some sort of painkillers before leaving the safety of Thunderbird 4.

"You okay?"

"Yes. What's that contraption you have with you?"

"Inflatable sterozene airlock. One of Brains' finest. And an oxyhydnite cutter. We're going to have to set up the airlock, then cut through the hull."

"Will the airlock work this deep?"

"Brains says it'll hold up to six hundred feet. We're four hundred eighty-five down, so yes, it'll work."

They came around the side of the sub and Penny remarked, "Poseidon Seven. Isn't there an old movie about a ship named Poseidon sinking?"

"Yes. It's one of Gordon's favorites, actually."

She noticed the strangled sound his voice took on when he mentioned his son. "He'll be all right, Jeff. We're about to rescue him. He'll be fine."

When they reached the Crow's Nest, Jeff tried the hatch. Of course, he found it locked tight. Just then, three simultaneous bursts reached their ears through their helmets. They turned and watched as three small, round balls jetted away from the sub.

"What are those?" Penny asked.

"Escape pods," Jeff replied grimly. "The crew uses them to get out of a sinking sub."

"Do you think Gordon and Tin-Tin might be on one of them?"

"God, I don't know. If they are, that means they're safe for now. If they're not..."

"Right. Let's get in there."

Jeff opened the airlock case and flipped a switch. It inflated rapidly, taking the shape of an eight-foot by eight-foot square. It was made of a material Penny had never before seen. Once it was opened all the way, Jeff maneuvered them into it and activated the magnetic seal around its perimeter with a small remote, attaching it securely to the top of the hull. He then pressed another button, and a two-inch flap opened, a small but powerful vacuum inside it pulling the water out. Penny watched in fascination. Brains' inventions never ceased to amaze her.

"All right, stay behind me," Jeff said, readying the oxyhydnite torch. To himself, he mumbled, "Brains, I sure hope this sterozene is spark-proof."

01:11:08

As surely as he'd known Tin-Tin was with him before, that's how certain he became that she was no longer. It had been as though a wall went up between them, quite suddenly, and so violently that a sharp pain had pierced his skull. Now Kyrano, having been sedated by the nurses, lay in bed with tears streaming down his face. "Tin-Tin," he whispered, his heart breaking.

And then a thought occurred to him. Gordon. Tin-Tin had told him she'd reached Gordon's mind. Perhaps Kyrano could as well. He closed his eyes, fighting the medication as it took over his body's systems, shutting his brain cells down one by one.

_Gordon. Gordon, hear me._

01:12:51

The world around him still black as night, Gordon continued feeling his way along the corridor, wondering why he hadn't heard Tin-Tin's voice inside his head since she'd told him she was on her way. He also wondered what had happened to the emergency lighting. Every sub had it. Could the darkness surrounding him mean it had been disabled on purpose? If so, by whom?

He knew there was a turn he had to make up ahead...he remembered it from when Greg and the others had taken him and Tin-Tin to the control room. But he had a hard time judging the distance he'd come, so he was uncertain as to his ability to find the right passageway.

Suddenly he felt something that he could only describe as strange. His skin began to tingle, almost like when he'd been mildly electrocuted while toying with one of Brains' inventions. He felt his arms become heavy, then his head, then it felt as though a great weight was pressing into him, pushing down on him, making him feel heavier than he was.

"What is this?" he breathed, leaning against the wall.

_Gordon. Gordon, hear me._

"Who the--?" Gordon frowned and closed his eyes. Another voice in his head? "I'm going insane. That's the only explanation," he said.

_I haven't much time. Hear me._

"Kyrano?"

_Tin-Tin...is in danger...the Hood...Gordon, please, help my daughter._

"The Hood? Here? Kyrano, are you sure?" But he received no response. Pushing himself off the wall, he noticed the heavy feeling had left his body, as had the tingling sensation. "Tin-Tin!" he cried into the darkness. "Tin-Tin!"

And that's when he felt it on his feet. Water. The water had risen. He thought fleetingly of Paul and Greg, the two men he'd locked in that room in the aft section. If the water was already this high...he shuddered. Yes, they'd been the ones who'd kidnapped him and Tin-Tin for Acronym. Yes, Greg had been _this close_ to killing him. But that didn't mean he himself could stomach the thought of being responsible for their deaths. Now he had that on his conscience as well as the myriad of images that filled his mind where the Hood and Tin-Tin were concerned.

"Dad," he whispered as he began trotting through the corridor. "Dad, where are you?"

01:15:30

"Swiss Army knife. Always comes in handy," Scott said, flipping the blade closed as he ushered Megan out of the closet.

"You're a regular Boy Scout," she intoned. "Would you look at this? That idiot Franklin left our guns right here on the shelf."

"No one said henchwomen were smart," he replied, taking his offered gun and sliding it into his sash.

"Lucky for us."

"Meg, get to the nurse's station. Have them inform Security as to what's going on."

"Right," she said, and headed around the corner.

Scott turned and ran for the stairwell, taking the steps two-at-a-time. He and Megan had been out of commission for so long...he hoped with every fiber of his being that Acronym's men hadn't gotten to Alan and Virgil yet.

When he burst onto the eighth floor, Nurse Blevins, seated at the station to his right, gasped and came to her feet.

"Has anyone been on this floor?"

She shook her head. "No, not since Jane, Maxie and Janet left after making Virgil comfortable."

Having started down the hall to his brothers' room, Scott came up short at her words. He turned and walked back toward her, his hand on the machine pistol in his holster. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "How did you know his name was Virgil?"

Her face revealed nothing as she replied, "I heard you say it."

"No," he said, hand tightening on the butt of his gun. "I never said it out here. I never said his name."

"Maybe it was Dr. Crawford."

Now Scott knew something was wrong. How could this woman know Megan's last name? And that she was a doctor? His mind worked through it at lightning speed, trying to think if he might've said it himself. But no, he hadn't. He'd used only her first name when calling out to her earlier, when she'd been on the vidphone in the hall. He pulled the pistol from his side and pointed it at her.

"What on Earth are you doing?" she asked.

"Where are the agents that are guarding those men?"

"How should I know? Still down there, I suppose." Before he knew what happened, Blevins had whipped out a gun and pointed it directly at him. "Except for the one you call 98."

Staring down the barrel of her gun, Scott gritted out, "What about 98?"

"You know when you sent him to ask me about an incoming vidphone call?"

Scott nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Well, I gave him the last answer of his life."

"You killed him?"

She nodded. "Just like I'm going to kill you. Acronym will be pleased. I'm sure to get a bonus for this."

"Is that all you care about is money? You're doing this for _money_?"

"Makes the world go 'round, Scott. After all, not everyone gets to be the son of a billionaire."

And she knew about his father, about who they were...if _she_ knew, how many others knew? He concentrated on her hand, on the finger she held over the trigger of her weapon. If she fired, could he fire back and duck in time to dodge the bullet? If _he_ fired, it posed the same question...could he get out of the way in time to avoid her firing on _him_?

"You won't shoot me," she sneered. "International Rescue is about saving lives."

He clenched his teeth.

"I, on the other hand, have no such qualms."

Two shots rang out. And two people fell.

01:29:36

The Hood was more than pleased with himself. Here he was, walking side-by-side with his niece, who was completely under his control. Her mind was so easy to dominate. Much easier than her father's, his disloyal half-brother. She wasn't as powerful mentally, but he would teach her in time. She was his prize, his trophy. His triumph.

He led her to a room ten feet from the Crow's Nest, where a plethora of diving suits hung in rows. He instructed Tin-Tin to remove her clothing as he selected a suitable thermal suit and DDS. Then a sound caught his attention. He stepped outside the door and peered into the darkness. Above him, in the ceiling, he saw little sparks coming through the bulkhead. "Now, who could that be?" he wondered aloud. "Perhaps...International Rescue?"

01:32:14

"Nearly through," Jeff said. He'd begun sweating inside the two suits and was itching rather uncomfortably in places. "How you doin'?"

"It's hot as an oven in this suit, Jeff."

"I hear you. But you'll be glad for it once we hit the water again. Pull out your pistol, Penny. Here we go."

Jeff stomped on the three-foot square he'd cut. The metal clattered into the sub below. Opening the front of his DDS, he reached down and pulled his own gun out of an inside pocket. Then he knelt down and peered into the darkness. "Flashlight," he said, holding his hand up and back. Penny placed it firmly into his hand and he turned it on, scanning the area below.

"How does it look?"

"Well, this part isn't underwater yet. I don't see anyone. Let me go down first."

Hands on each side of the newly created entrance, Jeff used his arms to lower himself into the ghostly quiet vessel. Though it looked deserted, his gut told him something wasn't quite right. He removed his helmet and let it drop to the floor. Flashlight in one hand, gun in the other, he crossed them and turned left-to-right and back again, scanning for any signs of life. He saw none.

In spite of his unease, he said, "Okay, Penny."

She sat on the edge of the hole and jumped the seven-foot distance to the floor. Landing in a crouching position, she resisted the urge to groan in pain as it felt like the knife stabbed into her back all over again. Pulling out her own flashlight, she mimicked Jeff's stance, standing back-to-back with him.

"I don't like this," he said softly.

"Neither do I."

"But _I_ do!" came a low voice.

Penny whirled around to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Jeff. The light from their flashlights revealed a man stepping out from a room roughly ten feet in front of them.

For the first time ever, they saw the true face of the Hood.

01:41:02

Megan flew through the elevator doors before they'd even opened all the way, four policemen hot on her heels. The sight that greeted her made her cry out.

"_Scott_!"

She rushed to his side, kneeling next to where he lay on the floor, a small pool of blood gathering next to his head. Fighting the tears stinging her eyes, she touched her fingers to his carotid. He moaned softly, head turning from side to side, eyes open, but unfocused, mouth working, but no words coming out.

Two officers knelt on either side of him as the two remaining International Rescue agents raced toward them.

"We heard shots!" 182 cried.

A third officer approached them. "The nurse is dead," he said. "How are the two you were guarding?"

"Fine. Still unconscious, but fine otherwise," 164 replied. "What happened?"

"Looks like they had a showdown," the fourth policeman said as he approached them. "How's he?" he asked, nodding towards Scott.

"We've got to get a doctor here, _now_!" Megan said, bending lower to examine the wound on Scott's head. She was so intent upon her task that she didn't notice one of the officers sneaking off down the hall...

01:43:33

"At last we meet face-to-face, International Rescue," the Hood said, his smile making Jeff want to vomit. His flashlight illuminated the faces of those before him.

"The Hood," Penny breathed.

He nodded in her direction. "Yes. You are Lady Penelope, are you not? I am very pleased to meet you at last. And you, Jeff Tracy."

"What are you doing here?" he ground out, his voice full of loathing.

"The same as you, I would imagine. _Rescuing_ my _loved_ ones!" With that, he reached into the room and yanked someone out.

Penny gasped, "Tin-Tin!"

Jeff swallowed hard, his gun never wavering even though Tin-Tin now stood between it and the Hood. "Loved ones? You're a coward," he spat. "Using an innocent woman to save your ass."

"No, using my _niece_ where I could not use my brother."

His words hit Jeff's brain like a speeding train. "Kyrano," he breathed.

He laughed. "You fool! You never knew why Kyrano was having those attacks of his." He continued to laugh as Jeff's anger rose. "And now I have his daughter."

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Jeff menaced.

"Ah, but you don't. She has joined me. Haven't you, my lovely?" he said, stroking her long hair with his hand.

"Yes," was her monotonous reply.

"You've hypnotized her!" Penny exclaimed.

"In a manner of speaking," he said. He placed the gun he'd been holding to Tin-Tin's head into her hand, closing her fingers firmly around the cold metal. He whispered something into her ear, and slowly she raised the gun to her temple. "That's right," he said a little louder, so his audience could hear. "That's right."

"You fiend!" Penny cried.

Jeff fairly shook with rage, but he didn't dare fire on the Hood and risk hitting Tin-Tin by accident.

"Tin-Tin," Penny said softly, taking a step closer and lowering her weapon.

"Penny, no!" Jeff hissed.

"Tin-Tin, it's me, Penelope. Don't let him do this to you. This isn't you. Please."

"Penny..."

The Hood just laughed. He was rather enjoying this game. He whispered again and Penelope stopped short not five feet away as Tin-Tin slowly moved her hand until the gun was pointing straight ahead.

Jeff was nearly out of his mind. Now Tin-Tin was pointing the gun at Penny, and he _still_ didn't have a clear shot at the bastard who was causing it to happen.

"You see, Jeff Tracy," the Hood said, a mirthful tone to his voice, "she belongs to me. She will do as _I_ will her to do."

"She won't kill Penny. You can't change who she is inside."

"Can't I?" he asked, one dark eyebrow rising. He lowered his lips to Tin-Tin's ear again, and she moved the gun from Penny to Jeff. "If I tell her to shoot, your life is over."

"I don't believe that."

"Ah, there's nothing I like better than a challenge. Let's just see then, shall we?"

Penny turned her head to look at Jeff. He glanced at her and their eyes met. The scene from the lab ran through both their minds. _Don't you dare, Penny,_ he thought.

The Hood whispered once more, and Tin-Tin's finger tightened over the trigger.

Jeff tore his eyes from Penny's and turned them to Tin-Tin. The light from their flashlights glowed against her large, green eyes, which stared straight at him but did not see him. _She won't do it,_ he thought. _She won't kill me._ He didn't realize the Hood's attention had turned elsewhere.

Penny's jaw dropped as she looked into the Hood's eyes for the first time. They began to glow a soft yellow. A frightening feeling overcame her, like a fog descending upon her brain. She fought to regain control of her senses, but couldn't escape it...couldn't escape the black velvet curtain as it settled into place over the stage of her mind.

The Hood read her thoughts. "The closing act, your ladyship." Then he said to Tin-Tin, "Kill him."

"Damn you," Jeff whispered. He heard footsteps approach from behind him. "Who's there?" he called out.

"Father!"

Jeff gasped and turned his head. He couldn't believe his ears. "Gordon!"

"_Dad_!"

Relief surged through him as he heard his son's footfalls coming nearer. But he didn't get the chance to turn back toward Tin-Tin and the Hood. A shot rang out, and Jeff grunted as a bullet tore through his right shoulder. The force of impact threw him backwards, and he landed on the floor with a thud.

"Dad!" Gordon cried.

The Hood pivoted to look behind him, letting go of Tin-Tin, who still held the gun in her outstretched hand. But the bullet had not come from her.

"I don't know who you are," said a voice from the shadows, "but I must thank you for making my job that much easier."

A man stepped into a circle of light cast by the flashlight Jeff had dropped as he fell. "Who are you?" the Hood asked.

"I am Acronym."

Gordon knelt on the floor next to his father. "No, Dad, no," he whispered. He pressed the palm of his hand over the bleeding wound, applying all his weight to the effort. Jeff raised his head even as he began to lose consciousness.

"Son..." Jeff said, his voice barely audible. "So...glad...you're...okay..." Then his eyes closed and his head dropped to the floor.

"_You_ are Acronym?"

"I am. And who would you be?" he asked, leveling his gun at the intruder.

"I am the Hood."

"Ah, yes. Master criminal. You've caused International Rescue no small amount of consternation these past years."

Lifting his chin, he stepped out from behind Tin-Tin and replied, "That is correct. And their secrets belong to me!"

"Somehow I doubt that, _friend_."

"You will not take that which I have worked so long for!" he spat.

Gordon looked up at them. Penny and Tin-Tin's bodies were rigid. Acronym was pointing a gun at the Hood's head...the Hood...Acronym...who had shot his father? Then he saw the gun in Tin-Tin's hand. Noticed how glassy her eyes were. It couldn't be. Had...had _Tin-Tin_ shot him? If she had, Gordon knew it was only because the Hood had instructed her to do so.

Filled with unmitigated fury, Gordon roared to life. Within seconds he shot across the distance between them and tackled the Hood to the ground. Acronym jumped back in surprise as the two men wrestled in front of him. He looked to the right and noticed Jeff Tracy was not moving. Thinking he'd killed him, he considered his options quickly.

His attention turned towards the beautiful blonde. Her eyes blinked slowly. Whatever had been wrong with her, she seemed to be coming out of it. Similarly, Tin-Tin's eyelids began moving as the gun in her hand rattled to the floor. He smiled as the solution came to him.

He attached Penny's helmet to her DDS and followed suit with Tin-Tin before putting on his own. Waving his gun at them, he said, "Climb the ladder."

Still in a daze, the women complied without hesitation. Michael Canton II hesitated as he placed his foot on the bottom rung of the ladder leading to the Crow's Nest. He looked down and to his left at the man who lay there motionless; the man upon whom, it seemed, he had taken the ultimate revenge.

"Goodbye, Jefferson Tracy," he said. And then he was gone.

Finally winning the upper hand, the Hood hauled back and punched Gordon square on the jaw, sending him crashing back into the bulkhead. He heard the hiss of the airlock up in the Crow's Nest and fumed. But before he could come to his feet, the submarine gave one loud groan. He stopped moving and looked around in horror.

"It's breaking up," he said, scrambling to come to his feet.

The vessel shuddered, throwing the Hood off-balance. He landed on the floor again just as he heard the squeal of metal being torn apart. The sub tilted, sending his DDS helmet skittering just out of reach. He pushed himself to his hands and knees as the telltale hiss of leaking water reached his ears. Crawling to his helmet, he grabbed it and began lifting it to his head as he rose to his feet.

The ship's hull screamed in protest as the seam just above his head broke. Water rushed in, straining at the four-inch pipe that stood in its way. The pipe broke, one end falling...right into the Hood's head. He collapsed back onto the floor, the helmet flying from his hand, as blood trickled down into his eye. Dazed, he lay propped against the wall, water pouring in over him.

Gordon rose unsteadily to his feet and fought through a torrent of water to the room across the way. He'd seen Acronym escaping with Tin-Tin and Penny, but hadn't been able to gather his wits enough to do anything, and he cursed himself for it. Foregoing the thermal suit, he grabbed a DDS and hurried into it, fastening the helmet on as he emerged into the hall. The water rushed down toward his father, mixing with the blood he'd lost and carrying it down the hall.

Another suit and helmet in hand, Gordon raced to unzip Jeff's punctured DDS, yanking and pulling with all his might, working as fast as he could. He was on autopilot, the shock of recent events beginning to catch up to him. All he knew was that he had to save his father. The man who had come to save _him_...and now lay dying because of it.

It seemed to take forever, but finally Gordon secured Jeff into his suit. He hiked him up into a fireman's carry and headed for the ladder. But he stopped just as his hand reached out to grab one of the rungs.

The Hood was bewildered...he flopped about in the water, struggling to come to his feet, but not seeming to have the balance necessary to stay up once he'd gotten there. Gordon watched mesmerized as he floundered and suddenly realized something.

He held the Hood's life in his hands. _And the world's better off without him._ He turned to begin climbing the ladder as the ship groaned around him. It was clear the Hood wouldn't survive.

The back wall of the diving suit storage room blew outward, the force yanking the Hood inside. As Gordon looked back in surprise, the door clanged shut, and he heard the Hood's body slam up against it. The metal wall began to bulge from the weight of the sea trying to press in from the other side. Gordon knew he had no time left.

Steadying his father, he continued the ascent. The ship groaned again and he heard the door finally give way, water rushing faster into the space beneath him. Reaching the airlock, he opened it and hoisted Jeff upward before following himself. He closed the lower hatch and double-checked his DDS as well as his dad's. Then he pressed a button and the airlock flooded.

As he turned the metal wheel to open the hatch, the ship shrieked one last, loud objection to the strain on her hull. He pushed his father up out of the opening just as the sub imploded.

01:59:58

01:59:59

02:00:00


	15. Hour Fifteen

**Hour Fifteen**

_The following takes place between 2:00 p.m. and 3:00 p.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

02:00:48

"Brains. Wake up. Brains. Wake up."

But no matter what Braman tried, he couldn't get his creator to regain consciousness. His mind, made up of a complex positronic brain and a myriad of other things only Brains could ever hope to explain, moved quickly. It worked through the problem as any computer, with logic and binary equations producing and then dismissing potential solutions to his current predicament faster than any other machine in existence.

Recalling Brains' last words, he tried to deduce what he'd meant by, _"Braman...call...J-J...Joh..."_ He worked and worked the problem until at last he came up with a seemingly logical possibility.

"I must call John Tracy on Thunderbird 5," he intoned as he rose to his feet. He moved to a nearby com panel and pressed the button that opened a line to the space station. "This is Braman calling Thunderbird 5. This is Braman calling Thunderbird 5."

"Braman? This is John. What's going on?"

"Brains has lost consciousness."

"He's _what_? Braman, what happened?"

"I do not know."

"Play back the last two minutes before he lost consciousness."

"F.A.B." Braman cocked his head as John watched and waited. Then the recording began.

_"Braman." _

_"Yes?" _

_"I don't...I don't feel so good." _

_"Are you ill?" _

_"I...I think so...God, what...what...?...Oh...oh, no..."...I-It's not...a...concussion...it's...it's...the C-60...oh, no...Braman...call...J-J...Joh..." _

_"Message not complete. Brains. Brains. Wake up. Wake up, Brains."_

"End of recording."

Concern evident on John's face, he said, "Braman, begin visual two-way. Take me to Brains."

Braman's chest plate slid downward, revealing a blank vid screen. It blinked to life, and John's live feed could be seen. He walked over to Brains and tilted forward so John could see him.

"Brains!" John cried, when he saw his unconscious, sweat-soaked friend. "Braman, I'm activating remote command."

"F.A.B."

John placed his right hand on something that looked like a joystick. This would turn Braman's head, body, arms and legs in any direction John chose based on whichever button he'd pushed with his left hand. Allowing Braman to be controlled remotely had been useful to Brains if he'd needed something done while on Thunderbird 5 and Tin-Tin wasn't available. Brains couldn't have known this small luxury might help save his life.

Kneeling Braman on the floor, John maneuvered the robot's right hand so that it gently poked Brains' back. "Brains, wake up! Brains, it's John, can you hear me?"

When he received no response, he had Braman turn Brains over and lift him into his arms. He then instructed the robot to take Brains to their Hospital Ward. While Braman complied, John tried getting hold of his father.

"This is Thunderbird 5 to Jeff Tracy. Come in, Dad."

He received no response.

"Thunderbird 5 to Thunderbird 4. Come in, please." Nothing. Something was wrong. He could feel it. "John!" came a voice through his speakers.

Eyes widening in surprise, John whispered, "Gordo?"

"Yeah, John, it's me."

"_Gordon_!" John cried. His chair rolled backwards and tipped over as he flew to his feet. "Gordon! Gordon, my God! Where are you? Where _are_ you?"

"In the water, trying to get Dad back to Thunderbird 4."

"What do you mean, trying to get Dad back to Thunderbird 4? What's going on? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Dad's been shot, John."

John's elation at hearing his brother's voice took a nosedive right into unadulterated fear. "Shot?" he squeaked.

"Yeah, listen, I can't talk...too well...right now...almost there..."

"Gordon, what the _hell_ is going on?"

"Hang on...get Scott..."

John opened another line. "Thunderbird 5 calling Scott Tracy. Come in."

02:17:18

Megan jumped when she heard a funny sound coming from her body. Then she remembered Scott's watch. She still had it in her pocket! She yanked it out and said, "Come in!"

John's face appeared, and from his expression, she knew something was just as wrong on his end as it was on hers. "Uh...is this Dr. Crawford?"

"Yes!"

"Where, uh, where's Scott?"

"Oh, something terrible's happened, he's been shot!" She watched as John nearly fell backwards, having forgotten his chair wasn't right behind him. He grabbed the console and managed to keep himself upright.

"What do you mean, _shot_?"

"I don't know what's going on, Nurse Blevins, she was dead, they're in the ER now, it looks like it just grazed his temple, but...I don't know, I don't know!"

"Dammit!" John swore as he watched Braman place Brains in a bed. "Braman, turn on the life monitors and report his condition immediately!"

"F.A.B.," came the robot's tinny voice.

"Gordon, can you hear me?"

"Yeah, John, just got Dad aboard. John, Acronym...he took Penelope and Tin-Tin!"

"He did _what_? What are you telling me, Gordon?"

"It's so crazy, I'm not sure what's happening...the Hood was there, Acronym...Dad, Penelope...Tin-Tin had a gun...she was under the Hood's control...the sub imploded...Aaaaa!"

"What? What?"

"Shit, a hunk of that sub just landed on top of us. I can't get Thunderbird to move, John! I have to go fix Dad up, getting outta here will have to wait."

"Is he okay?"

"I'm not sure, he lost consciousness back on the sub, he was shot through the shoulder, but I haven't had time to get a close look at the wound."

"Right, tell me how he is and we'll figure you a way outta there. Dr. Crawford!"

"What?"

"Is Scott all right?"

"Looks like it, they're wrapping his head now, I think he'll be all right once he comes to." John watched as Megan turned her head left, then right, then moved herself in a complete circle. Her face paled.

"What is it?"

"That policeman...they all came down here to the fourth floor with us...but one of 'em's missing. Oh, God! Alan and Virgil!"

"What about 'em? Megan? Megan!"

But Megan had stuffed the watch back into her pocket. All he could hear was her yelling, but he couldn't make out the words. "Jesus!" he exclaimed, his frustration mounting with every passing second. "Braman! Report!"

"Heart rate eighty-nine beats per minute. Blood pressure one-seventy-five over ninety and rising. Oxygen levels decreasing rapidly."

"Braman! What was in the containment unit when it exploded?"

"C-60 and nitrozine."

"What the hell is C-60?"

"Primary component: carbon tetrachloride, comprising seventy-two percent of--"

"Don't recite it, Braman, for God's sake! Analyze components of C-60 and nitrozine and cross-check with Brains' physical symptoms!"

"F.A.B. Processing."

"Gordon!" he yelled, watching as his brother stripped their father's DDS off. "How's Dad?"

"Not good, John, he's lost a lot of blood. I've got the first aid kit, but there's not much I can do without staying here and applying pressure to try and stop the bleeding. And that means I won't be able to get Thunderbird 4 outta here."

John turned back to the second monitor. "Braman, come up with a solution to the following problem: patient on Thunderbird 4, gunshot wound, right shoulder, heavy bleeding, unable to utilize pressure from hands to stem blood flow!"

"Processing." Mere seconds passed before he continued. "Solution Number One, probability of success eighty-one percent: utilize absorbent medical gauze number three as compress; utilize Grab-Jack in reverse position to apply continual pressure to wound. Solution Number Two, probability--"

"Stop, Braman! Gordo, you hear that?"

"Already on it, hang on!"

"Braman, have you completed analysis of Brains' condition?"

"Affirmative. Probability ninety-six percent: unusually high exposure to carbon tetrachloride via inhalation and skin absorption resulting in lack of oxygen to bloodstream. Affecting liver, kidneys, nervous system, brain, circulatory system. Result: Fatal if not treated--"

"_Fatal_? Solution, Braman! Solution! Keep him from dying, for _God's_ sake!"

"F.A.B. Gathering materials now."

"Dr. Crawford?" John could hear nothing. "Megan! Can you hear me? Megan!"

02:35:52

Megan and three police officers had just reached the hall leading to Virgil and Alan's room. They found both posted International Rescue agents lying dead outside the door. One officer pushed Megan out of the way while he and his companions raced into the room, weapons drawn.

"Stop right there!" he hollered.

The missing officer froze with the end of Virgil's IV line only two inches from his lips. He contemplated his options. Could he blow into the line before the other three shot him down? To do so would cause certain death, pushing air into Virgil's bloodstream. But was he willing to die just to kill a man he didn't even know?

Rapid footsteps approaching from the end of the hall made Meg turn her attention away from the room. Rounding the corner were four huge men dressed all in black, their faces smudged black as well. They were carrying large automatic weapons and barreling down on her in full attack mode.

"Jesus!" she cried. "Out here! Hurry!" She whipped her machine pistol out and took a shot at the leader of the pack, but it just sunk into his bulletproof vest. He and the one just to his right aimed their weapons at her...and fired.

02:38:19

Gordon stripped the thermal suit off Jeff's torso, baring him down to his waist. He lifted his father's shoulder and noted no exit wound, which meant the bullet was lodged inside. He placed four absorbent gauze pads right over the entry wound, then pressed a button on the Grab-Jack. It was a one-inch thick one-foot square of metal with four metal arms extending from the top. He turned it upside-down over Jeff's shoulder, fitting one bendable rod around under his armpit, one at the side of his arm, and the other two over his shoulder.

Pressing another button caused the arms to lock into place. Another two quick jabs to the tiny control panel extended a five-inch square platform downward. Gordon moved it so it was right over the bullet hole, then extended it until it began pressing down on the wound. He allowed it to continue its slow descent until at last he brought it to a stop. He checked and rechecked the gauze pads and the amount of pressure being applied until he was fairly certain the Grab-Jack was doing its job.

"John! I've got the jack in place, it seems to be working!"

"Okay, Gordo, now what about getting outta there?"

"Thunderbird 4 wouldn't budge. I'm gonna have to go out there and see if I can dislodge the piece of hull that hit us."

"Gordo...God...be careful. Please be careful. I--"

"What is it, John?"

"I thought I lost you once. I don't wanna lose you again."

Gordon smiled cheekily. "You aren't getting rid of me that easily, bro."

John, though he appreciated what Gordon was trying to do, was not in a smiling mood. "I'm keeping you on an open line."

"F.A.B. I'll be out there in two shakes."

02:42:12

Megan dropped herself to the floor like a lead weight just as two of the policemen came bolting out of the room. They were pelted with machine gun fire as she scurried forward on her belly into the room. The officer with Virgil's IV line in his hand dropped it and reached for his pistol. Megan saw the officer nearest her fire his weapon, and the other one fell to the floor.

Gunfire rang out in the hallway amidst yells and screams. Meg crawled around and pulled herself up between Virgil and Alan's beds, shoving the dead fake policeman closer to the wall with her feet. She noticed the bars on the room's one window had been cut off, most likely by the officer before he'd attempted to kill Virgil.

The situation seemed hopeless. Any second now those men would be rushing into the room. She looked over her shoulder at Alan, then down at Virgil. "I'm so sorry, Scott," she whispered as hurried footsteps grew nearer. "I'm so sorry."

02:44:55

"Braman! What're you doing about Brains?" John shouted as he watched the robot jabbing needles and IV lines into the engineer's body.

"Have applied 100 humidified supplemental oxygen via face mask. Have removed all clothing to aid in decontamination."

"Yeah, I can see he's naked, Braman, what's in the hypos?"

"Administering N-acetylcysteine to combat hepatotoxicity in liver. Administering 16-dimethyl prostaglandin E2 to block accumulation of intracellular lipids. Administering three indole antioxidants. Changing humidified supplemental oxygen to high-level dose of hyperbaric oxygen to counter effect regional tissue hypoxia and damage. Administering blood thinner 4c-8 to prevent blood clots and possible stroke."

John's head was beginning to hurt. "Braman! Is it working? How are his vitals?"

"Heart rate seventy-nine beats per minute. Blood pressure one-thirty-four over eighty-one and decreasing. Oxygen levels rising."

"Oh, thank _God_! Braman, I think you just saved Brains' life!"

"Yes," was all the mechanical man said.

02:48:32

"Gordon, what do you see?"

"Oh, boy," Gordon said through pursed lips. "It's a good-sized chunk, about twenty feet long, ten or so feet wide. I can't tell if there's any damage to Thunderbird. I'm gonna go back in and get the hydro lift."

"Hurry, Gordon, and check on Dad."

"F.A.B."

02:51:59

Megan and the remaining officer almost fired on the man who charged into the room. Luckily, though, they realized he was from the Arlington Police Department, and managed not to shoot him.

"Who are you?" the officer bellowed.

"Dr. Megan Crawford!" she replied, her gun still pointed directly at him. "What happened to those men with the machine guns?"

"We got 'em, Ma'am," another officer said as he entered the room. Two more came behind him, followed by a sight that was more than welcome to Megan.

"Grandma!" she exclaimed, shoving her weapon back into her pocket.

The elderly woman entered the room, gladly accepting a fierce hug from this person she hardly knew. "Oh, I'm so glad we got here in time."

"How did you--what did you--?"

"When I woke up I was down there in the Emergency Room," Grandma explained as she went to check on her grandsons. "Those men and a nurse were barreling through there like a stampede. I knew something wasn't right and started after them, yelling like a Banshee. These police officers had just arrived and came after me."

"A nurse?" Megan asked as she examined Virgil's severed IV line. "What nurse?"

"I don't know. Kinda stocky woman with short brown hair, wore glasses."

"Where is she now?"

Ruth turned to look right at her. "I don't know."

02:56:06

She crept to the abandoned nurse's station, paying little heed to her comrade lying dead on the floor in a puddle of drying blood. Joanna Franklin edged her way out to the corridor. To her right she saw two hospital guards standing outside of the secured Emergency Room ward. The rest of the ER bustled with activity, but there was only one thought on her mind now. _There must be someone from International Rescue in there._

Taking stock of the situation, she decided that killing the guards would be easy enough. After all, Canton was paying her an awful lot of money. Those goons she'd let in would take care of the two upstairs. Whoever this was would be all hers. And with a gun in her hand, she'd easily get out without any of the other staff stopping her. What did she have to lose now?

Raising her pistol, she fired. One guard fell and the other whirled to face her, gun drawn. He pulled the trigger, and she fired back before ducking behind the wall. But she wasn't quick enough to dodge the bullet that tore through her left arm. She screamed in agony as blood poured from it, turning her lily white uniform to scarlet. Staggering against the wall, she sank to her knees, staring with shock at her mangled arm.

Her brain began to slow as the life force ebbed from her body. She didn't even notice the screaming patients, nurses and doctors running for the exits. Rage overtook her. International Rescue. It was all their fault. Whoever was in that room was going to die with her. She would _not_ be going alone.

She grabbed hold of the metal rail on the wall and hauled herself to her feet, grinding her teeth, breath coming hard and heavy. Saliva gathered at the corners of her mouth as her half-crazed brain propelled her down the hall foot-by-foot, step by unsteady step. Barely noticing the two men she'd just killed, she reached the door to the ER room and leaned heavily on it, nearly falling down as it swayed open beneath her weight.

"_You_!" she cried, her voice dripping with venom. "How did _you_ get out?"

Franklin made her way to the bed, just barely catching herself on it in time to keep from tumbling to the floor. She dragged her body up the bed until her face was mere inches from that of the dark-haired patient who had several strips of gauze wrapped around his head.

"Guess your girlfriend didn't wanna stick around for the p-party!" she slurred, spittle landing all over his face and chest. Her remaining hand, which still clutched at the pistol, raised and lined the barrel up to Scott Tracy's temple, right where the small spot of red from his previous wound showed through the white gauze. "I'll see you in Hell, hero!" she spat.

Then she pulled the trigger.

02:59:58

02:59:59

03:00:00


	16. Hour Sixteen

**Hour Sixteen**

_The following takes place between 3:00 p.m. and 4:00 p.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

03:00:03

_Click._

Nurse Joanna Franklin's face changed from twisted glee to disbelief. Her gun was out of bullets. Sinking to her knees, she never took her eyes from Scott's face as she wobbled back and forth, her strength waning.

"You _will_ die!" her hoarse voice ground out. "I'm just...making it...to Hell...before...you..."

With that, she lost her balance for the last time. She fell to the cold, hard floor, eyes wide open, breath coming in little gasps. Blood gathered, forming what almost looked like angel's wings on either side of her still figure. And then Nurse Joanna Franklin breathed no more.

03:02:21

Under John's careful guidance, Braman sponged Brains down to try and remove any last traces of carbon tetrachloride. He then moved him to a clean bed and took the soiled clothes and bedding and placed them into the hazardous waste container. Braman's two-way vid screen showed John the life monitors. Satisfied that Brains was on the road to recovery, John turned his attention back to Gordon.

"How's it going?"

"Okay. I've got the lift attached to the edge of hull that's over top of the cockpit window. Activating lift now."

Being he was patched into Gordon's DDS helmet, John couldn't see what was going on, but he knew the giant balloon would be inflating and beginning to rise. The hydro lift Gordon was using was a much larger version of the one Gordon and Scott had used to lift the column off Brains in Lake Anasta after the Hood had attacked him.

The Hood. John wondered if he'd escaped from the submarine. He fervently hoped he hadn't.

03:04:57

Battered and bruised, the Hood cursed himself for having lost Tin-Tin in the melee aboard the Poseidon. He'd just barely gotten his helmet on after being sucked into the diving suit room, and still wasn't quite sure why he hadn't died. Except that he took it as a sign from the Fates, a sign that he was meant to continue with his mission to destroy Acronym. And he was now doubly rankled, for Acronym had his niece as well as Lady Penelope, and had most likely killed the patriarch of International Rescue.

"That should have been _my_ pleasure," he hissed.

He'd made it back to where he left his subjet, and wasn't completely surprised to find it missing. Cursing loudly, he knew Acronym must've stolen it. As chunks of the Poseidon floated down through the water, the Hood decided to try his next best bet: Thunderbird 4.

03:07:06

While Ruth and two officers remained in Virgil and Alan's room, Megan and the other three raced down the stairwell to the fourth floor. When they saw the two dead guards outside the ER and the trail of blood down the hall, all four feared the worst.

They barged into the Emergency Room bay and just stood for a moment as they took in Nurse Franklin's lifeless body on the floor next to the gurney. Megan went around to the other side of the bed. She could see Scott's chest rising and falling, and a check of his carotid revealed a nice, steady pulse. She let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"He's fine. We should get him outta here," Megan said. "Can you help me wheel him upstairs?" The men nodded and moved to help her with the bed. Adrenaline finally leaving her, she began to shake.

"You okay, Ma'am?"

"No!" she cried as they approached the elevator. "I'm not! I'm just a forensic pathologist! I work on dead people, for God's sake! I'm not a cop or a hit man! This is insane! How many more of you are on Acronym's payroll? Jesus _Christ_!"

"I'm not, Ma'am. I'm not on anyone's payroll but this city's. I'm George."

"Same here, I'm not on the take," the other officer added. "I'm John."

"John? Oh, God, John! He has no idea what's going on!"

The officers watched in confusion as she whipped a watch out of her pocket. She could see the interior of what she assumed to be Thunderbird 5, but John Tracy was nowhere in sight. "John! John, it's Megan, can you hear me?"

George and John the Officer looked at one another as the elevator doors opened. Both thought the woman before them had snapped. George whispered, "She's talking into a watch." John just shrugged. After what he'd seen so far today, nothing was surprising him anymore.

03:08:15

John, who'd taken a much-needed bathroom break, was just returning to his console when he heard Megan's voice. He ran the rest of the way and slammed down into his chair as he took in her pale face.

"Megan? You're shaking! What's going on? What happened?"

She shook her head and opened her mouth, but no words would come out. Right before his eyes, she fainted and fell to the floor.

"Megan!"

The picture from the watch whirled and rotated as men's voices floated to John's ears. He could tell one of them had picked Megan up, but the watch swung wildly in her free hand, so he couldn't make out exactly what was happening. It seemed to be forever until the picture became still.

"Megan! Somebody! Tell me what the _hell_ is going on!"

"John, what's happening?"

"I don't know, Gordo, Megan just collapsed."

"Who's Megan?"

"She's one of our agents, she's with Scott at the hospital." John turned back to the monitor in time to see a very familiar face appear. "Grandma!"

"Hi, John," she said, smiling tiredly.

"Grandma, are you okay? Is Scott okay? What's going on?"

"I'm fine, John, and Scott looks to be just fine, too. Megan's fainted, I'm afraid. Too much excitement today."

"You're not kidding. I'm about ready to fall down."

"Don't you dare!" Ruth ordered.

"I won't, Grandma," he smiled. "I promise. Now, what happened over there?"

"All I know is that two nurses are dead, Scott's temple was grazed by a bullet, someone tried to kill Virgil...John, there are dead bodies everywhere!"

"But you're okay?"

"For the moment. How are Jeff and Penny?"

"Grandma..."

"John, tell me."

"Well...Gordon's okay. He's with Dad."

"He _is_? He's all right?"

John nodded. "But Dad...and Penny...and Tin-Tin..."

"John..."

"Gordon says Acronym kidnapped Penelope and Tin-Tin off the sub."

"Oh, no!" When John didn't continue, she said, "Jeff. Where's Jeff?"

"He's on Thunderbird 4, Grandma. He...he's been shot."

Ruth's face twisted as she tried to hold her tears at bay.

"I don't know for sure how he is. Gordon's got him set up best he can in Thunderbird. He's trying to move a piece of the sub that blew on top of her so he can get them back to Base."

"And we all fall down," Ruth whispered, reaching down and grabbing Alan's limp hand.

"What?"

"It just seems like...we're dropping like flies, John. One by one. And now Acronym...Canton...has Penny and Tin-Tin?"

"Yeah. Seems that way." Despair had started to creep over John, but he tried to shake it off. They were the Tracys, for God's sake! But truly, with so much against them, with so many things going wrong...how could they make it out of this alive?

"Johnny, what are we going to do?"

Strengthening his resolve, he replied, "Survive, Grandma. We're gonna survive."

03:12:01

Penny blinked. She felt hot and sweaty, and recalled feeling that same way as she and Jeff had entered the Poseidon 7. She remembered coming face-to-face with the Hood...she remembered Tin-Tin pointing the gun at her and at Jeff...but she couldn't remember anything else. Where was she? And why couldn't she move her hands?

Struggling through the fog that was slowly lifting from her mind, Penny felt someone against her. She looked down at the shiny black hair and gasped, "Tin-Tin!" Tin-Tin moaned and stirred. Penny soon realized her hands were tied in front of her, as were her companion's. They were still wearing their DDSs, but the helmets had been removed. "Tin-Tin, wake up!"

"Huh? What...Penelope?"

"Tin-Tin, wake up!" Having regained most of her sensibilities, Penny scanned the area. They were leaning against the wall of what looked and sounded like a small submarine. She was startled when a shadow appeared over them.

"Ah, I see my beautiful ladies are awake."

She looked up and saw a man in his sixties with gray hair and gray eyes. They could almost have been Jeff's eyes had they not been so cold. The thought of him caused her to cry out, "Jeff!"

"You can forget about Jefferson Tracy," the man spat.

Tin-Tin had pretty much worked herself back into full consciousness. She looked up and shrieked, "Acronym!"

"Acronym?" Penny repeated. "_You're_ Acronym?"

He bowed. "At your service, your ladyship." He turned his attention toward Tin-Tin. "And you, my dear, should be thanking me. A rather nasty man had you in his clutches, but I saved you from him."

"You call this saving?" she muttered, twisting her hands against the rope that bound them.

"Where's Jeff?"

"Ah, Lady Penelope. I seem to think you've taken a fancy to dear Jefferson. I'm sorry to report that he's most likely shark bait by now."

"What?"

"I killed him. And the Poseidon is no more. I'd wager he's scattered throughout the ocean in little bits and pieces."

Penelope's lower lip quivered as tears filled her eyes. Not Jeff. He couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. He was Jeff Tracy! He _is_ Jeff Tracy, her mind corrected.

"Mm, so I was right. It looks like you were taking dear Lucy's place in his life. When he _had_ his life, that is. If she had only given me a chance, she would still be alive today. It's Jeff Tracy who killed her with all those bastard sons! Now he has paid his price. He has given his own life in return."

"Stop it!" Tin-Tin cried. "Stop it at once!"

Acronym just laughed. "I've got my sights set on Thunderbird 4 as we speak," he said. "It seems my former hostage is trying to get her going. Amazing contraption, that balloon he's using. Surprising it would work this far down."

The women knew he meant Gordon. But since neither of them had been aware of their surroundings at the time, they had no idea how the young man had gotten to Thunderbird 4, nor whether or not his father was truly dead. Acronym turned and walked away, clanking a door shut behind him.

"Penelope..." Tin-Tin began just as the heiress let out a gut-wrenching sob. "Oh, Penelope."

"He can't be dead, Tin-Tin! He just can't!"

03:20:41

Gordon got beneath the rising hunk of metal, planting his feet on the top of his small sub and using the back of his head and his shoulders to help push it upwards. His lower back screamed in agony, but his need to save his father kept him going in spite of the excruciating pain. At last the piece of hull lifted enough so its own weight caused it to slide down Thunderbird 4's side, metal screeching horribly against metal.

"I've got her free, John!"

"Is there any damage?"

"Doesn't look like it. She's pretty badly scraped... the dorsal looks a bit dented. But she'll make it back to Base. I'm going back in."

"F.A.B. Let me know how Dad is."

"I will."

Gordon moved to turn off the hydro lift. As the balloon began to deflate, he watched to make certain the metal didn't shift down onto one of his craft's side fins. He didn't see a lone figure enter Thunderbird 4's airlock hatch.

03:22:49

What was left of Arlington's police force swarmed into the city's largest hospital. They were stretched so thin due to the destruction of Washington, D.C. and the general mayhem in the surrounding area that they had no more than ten officers to spare for what had happened in the place that was supposed to heal people, not produce a dozen dead bodies.

Ruth and the few policemen that had been there explained what they knew of the situation to one officer, while the other nine spread throughout the hospital in search of anything suspicious, and to check on the patients and staff.

Just as Ruth finished giving her statement, she heard a soft moan from across the room. She jumped to her feet. "Alan!" she cried.

He licked his dry, cracked lips and tried to speak, but couldn't. Ruth grabbed a cup, filled it with water and plopped a straw into it, then brought that straw to Alan's mouth. He suckled it weakly, but did manage to get enough to wet his throat.

"Gr-Grandma," he croaked.

"Oh, Alan." Fresh tears trickled from her eyes as she stroked his singed hair and baby-chub cheeks. "You're going to be all right now."

"What...happ--happ...?"

"Shhh, don't you worry about a thing. You're safe now. You're safe."

Alan nodded slightly and closed his eyes, slipping back into unconsciousness. Ruth stared at him for long moments until she heard a throat clearing behind her. She turned to find large, golden-brown eyes staring at her. "Virgil!"

He smiled briefly before his mouth twisted in pain.

"Officer!"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Get a doctor or a nurse or something. A _real_ nurse! He needs painkillers!"

"No...Grandma."

"But Virgil, you're in pain," she soothed, stroking his chestnut-colored hair.

"No meds, Grandma," he said. "Gotta...get...outta here."

"Virgil Tracy, you're as stubborn as your father." Thinking of Jeff, though, caused Ruth's face to fall.

"Grandma? What is it?"

"Never you mind, now, never you mind."

"Where's...Scott?"

"He's right here, just against the wall over there."

"How...what...?"

"Shhh, now, just rest. Scott will be fine."

"Alan..."

"Alan will be fine, too. You'll see."

Virgil swallowed and closed his eyes. The pain emanating from his leg was nearly unbearable. All he could remember was the gas line exploding, and flying through the air towards a wrecked car. But why had his grandmother looked so strange when she mentioned his dad? And if Scott was in the room, why wasn't he coming over? Despite his grandmother's protests, Virgil pushed himself into a sitting position. His eyes came to rest on his older brother, lying on a gurney directly in his line of sight.

"Scott!"

"Virgil, calm yourself. I told you he's going to be fine."

Someone appeared in the doorway. Virgil turned to look and saw a woman he recognized. "113?"

She nodded, smiling. She looked pale and drawn, but seemed otherwise to be okay. "Hi, Virgil," she said, approaching his bed. "And it's Megan."

He nodded. "What's going on?"

"Insanity. Complete and utter insanity." She turned to look at Scott. Virgil noticed something in her eyes, something he hadn't seen in a woman's eyes for a long time. He followed her gaze as she asked, "Grandma, is he okay?"

She nodded. "Yes, dear, he's fine. How about you? You had me pretty worried there for a minute or two."

"I'm okay. I guess it was all just a little too much for me."

"What was a little too much?"

Megan turned back to face Virgil, her hand resting lightly upon his arm. "I'm so glad you and Alan are okay. Scott was so worried--" Suddenly a white strobe light began blinking. "What's going on?" Megan asked the nearest policeman.

"I don't know. That's the lockdown alarm. I'm gonna go see what's up."

Just then the officer's radio crackled to life. The words everyone heard come next froze them all with fear.

_"A bomb! There's a bomb down here! It's a bomb! A bomb!"_

03:37:48

Gordon had successfully pulled Thunderbird 4's nose out from under the edge of the sub's broken hull and was now speeding back to Tracy Island full-blast. Although his father was white as a ghost, his pulse was still holding, but thready and weak. He prayed he'd get him back there in time. Prayed for his father's will to survive.

"John, who's back on Base that can help with Dad?"

"Well, Brains is there, but he won't be of any use to you right now."

"Why not?"

"He was hit with carbon tetrachloride when the containment chamber blew."

"What? Wait a minute...you mentioned a hospital before...why is Scott at a hospital?"

"Oh, God, Gordo, you have _no_ idea what's been going on."

"Apparently not. Isn't there anyone else on Base?"

"Just Braman. But he'll be able to help you. He saved Brains' life."

Gordon was surprised. John had never acknowledged Braman as anything but a glorified computer. "_He_? What happened to _it_?"

John smiled in spite of himself. "Well, if it wasn't for Braman, Brains would be dead right now, or well on his way to it. I figure anyone who saves a member of our family deserves to be called _he_."

"You got that right."

"Dad still holding?"

Gordon turned to look back at his father, who lay on the floor behind him. "Yeah, but John, he's not doin' well. Make sure Braman's ready for us."

"Will do. Best speed, Gordo. Best speed."

Gordon nodded, oblivious to the extra passenger he carried back near his craft's engines. And to the small subjet that had begun to follow...

03:41:50

Braman returned to the laboratory. John had given him specific instructions to continue with the work he and Brains had been doing before the engineer's untimely collapse. He was able to work faster than any human being, but even as part of his positronic brain finished the formula to counteract UH-3, the other half was running calculations based on what Brains had originally told him of the necessary timeline.

In order for this to work, Braman had to not only develop the necessary compound in just the right quantities, but also had to mass-produce it, get it aboard Thunderbird 3 and wait for Scott to come back so it could be taken above the rarified atmosphere. Considering what he'd overheard about Scott Tracy's condition, Braman's computations brought him to only one conclusion.

"There is not enough time."

03:43:43

"Get this hospital evacuated _now_!" the officer yelled into his radio. He raced out of the room, the guards hot on his heels.

"They're half out already!" they heard a fading voice reply.

"Grandma!" Megan cried.

"Right. We've gotta get the boys outta here!"

Ruth moved to Alan's bed and unlocked the wheels. She began pushing him toward the door as Megan started unlocking the brake on Virgil's bed.

"No," he said calmly, placing his hand over hers. "I'll walk. You get Scott."

"You can't _walk_!"

"Just watch me," he ground out, removing the IV needle from his arm.

But Megan didn't stay to watch him. She raced to Scott's bed and put it in motion, pushing it to where Virgil had risen unsteadily to his feet. "Hop on board," she said.

He hesitated for only a moment before climbing up onto the bed, half-laying on his brother. "Go!"

Megan raced them down the hall with Virgil holding on for dear life. They met Ruth and Alan at the elevator just as it dinged and the doors slid open.

"Quickly!" Ruth said. They wheeled the beds into the elevator and she jabbed the button marked with an L. The doors closed and they began their descent.

"We have to get these people outta here."

"Virgil Tracy, you can't even walk, how are you gonna rescue all these people?"

"Grandma, that's what we _do_! We can't just let all these patients die!"

Megan grabbed Scott's watch from her pocket just as it beeped to life. "John! John, are you there? Come in!"

"Here, Megan! What's goin' on, I just heard the police scanners, there's a bomb in the hospital!"

"Yes, we're getting Scott, Virgil and Alan outta here! But John, the people...all the patients!"

"How much time is left on the bomb?"

"I don't know! The police officers we were with left before we could find out!"

"Wait...hang on..." John turned to listen to something, and then faced Megan again. "Ten minutes, Megan. You have ten minutes!"

"Oh, God," Megan moaned as the elevator came to a stop.

The Lobby was chaos. Gurneys and wheelchairs and people hobbling and dragging themselves through the throng of people with IV lines dangling from their arms...open-backed hospital gowns flapping...yelling and screaming and crying...it was mass hysteria.

Suddenly someone rushed at them and began pulling Alan's gurney out of the elevator.

"Dr. Gray!"

"Come on, there's an emergency exit just down the hall!" he said. He pushed Alan's bed with one hand while pulling Scott and Virgil's with the other.

Megan and Ruth looked at each other, the same thought occurring to both of them. "Dr. Gray," Megan called out, "can you handle them?"

"Yes!" he yelled over his shoulder.

"We're going back up!" she cried. She saw him nod his head, then she and Ruth re-entered the elevator. "Those two people," Ruth said as the doors swished closed. "The prisoners on the eighth floor."

"I know," Megan breathed. Into the watch, she said, "John, Dr. Gray's getting your brothers out of here."

It didn't even occur to John at that moment that Megan had called the three men his brothers. But Ruth Tracy noticed, and filed it away for later.

"Why are you still in the elevator?"

"There are two patients up on the eighth floor! We have to get them!"

"God, Megan...Grandma..."

Ruth leaned over so she could look her grandson in the eye. "We'll be fine, John, just don't you worry about us."

03:55:12

Gordon was almost home. Almost safe. Almost there. He brought Thunderbird 4 up through the depths of the sea, nearer and nearer the surface. Nearer and nearer to Tracy Island. "We're gonna make it, Dad," he whispered. "_You're_ gonna make it."

"Shit! Gordo!"

"What?"

"I haven't been paying attention...shit! There's a sub on your tail!"

Just then Gordon noticed a blip on his radar screen. It was at the far outside edge, but closing in on him rapidly. "What the hell?"

Gordon considered his options. Whoever was following him, if he went ahead and used the ramp up to Tracy Island's runway, they'd discover the secret base of International Rescue. He turned and glanced down at his father, who was looking worse and worse by the minute. He _had_ to get up there. He _had_ to save his dad. But what if the approaching vessel was hostile? They'd be in ruins, and it'd be his fault. And Jeff would die anyway.

"John!"

"Gordo, it's closing in _fast_! You can outrun it, get outta there!"

"John..."

"He's gaining on you!"

"I'm surfacing. I'm getting up on the island."

"Gordon..."

"I _have_ to, John! Dad risked everything to save me! I _won't_ let him die!"

"He's readying weapons!"

"No! Shit!" Gordon swore, spinning Thunderbird 4 around. At first he couldn't see anything through the pale light that filtered down through the water. But then his eyes caught movement. Soon he saw a small vessel appear. It slowed as it approached, then came to a dead stop only thirty feet away. Gordon opened the front panel of Thunderbird 4 and two canons emerged. He readied them to fire.

"No! Gordon! Wait!"

"What?"

"It's Penelope! Her GPS! It's weak, but...she's on that sub!"

"Goddammit, John! It must be Acronym! Tin-Tin's probably on there, too! What the hell do I do?"

"I don't know! Damn!"

"I will tell you _precisely_ what you will do," came a menacing voice from behind.

Gordon whirled around and found himself staring into the eyes of the Hood.

"Gordon! Who is it? Who's there?"

"John! The Hood! The Hood!"

His eyes began to glow. "You will do as I tell you."

"No! Gordon! Don't look at him!"

But it was too late. Gordon was mesmerized. He stared into those awful yellow eyes. He couldn't help himself. He couldn't tear his gaze away no matter what he tried.

"That's right," the Hood said as he wiped dried blood from his face. "Now you will turn around and you will fire on that subjet."

Gordon turned and placed a hand over the firing control. His eyes stared down at it blankly as his hand moved closer and closer to the button.

John's voice filled the cockpit. "Gordon! No, don't! Gordon! _Gordon_!"

03:59:58

03:59:59

04:00:00


	17. Hour Seventeen

**Hour Seventeen**

_The following takes place between 4:00 p.m. and 5:00 p.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

04:00:26

Suddenly the Hood felt something hit his legs, taking them right out from under him. He fell backwards, hitting his head on the doorframe leading into Thunderbird 4's midsection. Then he didn't move. Deprived of the connection that had been so strong, Gordon hesitated, his finger hovering only millimeters above the firing button.

"G-Gor-Gordon--"

He raised his head. He knew that voice.

"Gordon!"

There was coughing coming from behind him.

"Gordon!"

Hand lowering back to his side, Gordon blinked. In a voice far too child-like to be coming from a grown man, he said, "Father?"

"Gordon! Gordon, it's me, John! What happened?"

Gordon turned slowly, his mind a jumbled mass of thoughts and images, ideas and feelings...few of which belonged to him. Then he felt something else...a calm, benevolent presence. He knew it to be Kyrano. His eyes focused as he looked down onto the floor.

Jeff had awakened to find the Hood towering over him, his eyes glowing as they bored into the back of Gordon's head. He'd moved as swiftly as possible, swinging his leg around to sweep the Hood off his feet. Now he lay propped on his elbow staring at his son. His face was anxious as he struggled to keep himself up.

"Gordon," he said softly. "Son."

"Father..." Gordon whispered. Then it hit him. His father was awake! "Dad!" He rushed forward and knelt by his side. "Dad, are you all right?" He turned to see the Hood lying unconscious in the doorway. "Did _you_ do that?"

"Never...underestimate...a Tracy..." Jeff ground out, sinking back onto the floor.

John's voice interrupted. "Gordon! The sub! It's gonna fire!"

"Shit!" Gordon raced to the controls and jammed the yoke forward, causing Thunderbird 4 to dive nearly vertically into the depths. He heard a torpedo sail by and brought his sub out of its rapid descent.

Jeff fought to keep himself from rolling around the cabin as Gordon turned the ship this way and that. He felt his momentary strength slipping away. Things began to get fuzzy. "Gordon..."

"Hold on, Dad, just hold on..."

"What--Gordon..."

"Gordon! I have an idea!" John exclaimed.

"Now would be a good time to share!" Gordon retorted.

"Can you hit her jet engine? On the back?"

"You bet I can," Gordon replied. "But what if I misfire?"

"You...won't..." Jeff whispered. And then he slipped back into nothingness.

"Dad!" Gordon cried. He turned to leave the controls, desperate to make sure his father was okay.

"Gordon!" came John's agitated voice.

He stopped and gave his father one last look before returning to his seat. He moved Thunderbird 4 up, and was behind the subjet in no time. But he was suddenly mystified. Why would such a fast craft be sitting dead still in the water, just waiting for him to take a potshot? "John, what's going on with that subjet?"

"I don't know. Her weapons are still fully armed, but I can't figure what she's waiting for."

04:14:01

Tin-Tin had succeeded in using her hands to untie Penelope's bonds. Penny then reciprocated, and the two women looked around the small room for something to use as a weapon. Tin-Tin found a one-foot length of metal pipe, while Penny grabbed a sailor's knife she found in a cubby. They crept up to the door. Penny stood in front of it while Tin-Tin waited at the control panel. When she saw Penny nod her head, she jabbed a button.

The door slid open, revealing the sophisticated, yet small, cockpit of the subjet. In the pilot's chair sat none other than Acronym, who swiveled in surprise. "Very well done, ladies," he said as they rushed him.

Tin-Tin swung the pipe, connecting with Acronym's head and knocking him clean out of the chair. Penny dug her knee into his back as he groaned in pain. She held the knife to the side of his throat. "Just because we're not Tracys doesn't mean we're easy," she said bitterly, her mind straying to Jeff.

"Penelope, it's Gordon!" Tin-Tin cried, her eyes focusing on the readout next to the radar. "He's readied weapons!"

"John!" Penny cried into her wristwatch. "John, come in!"

"Penelope?"

"John, tell Gordon not to fire!"

"Gordon! Stand down! Penny's on the line!"

"Oh, thank _God_," Gordon breathed. "John, I've gotta get to Base _now_. Dad's started bleeding again!"

"Penny, you think you can make it to the island?"

Tin-Tin spoke next. "I think I can manage these controls enough to get us there, John. Tell Gordon we're right behind him."

"F.A.B.," John replied, breathing a sigh of relief.

04:10:44

Ruth and Megan had no trouble getting the female prisoner out of her room and into a stairwell, where she was able to escape under her own power. But the male prisoner was still unconscious. Piling the various IV lines and bags onto his torso, they raced his bed toward the elevator. But they could only stand there watching in desperation as it went from Floor 7 to Floor 6...Floor 6 to Floor 5...Floor 5 to Floor 4. Realizing they were out of time, they both took one more look at the large, unmoving man before turning the gurney and wheeling it toward the stairwell.

"We'll never make it!" Ruth had cried as they slammed the door open.

And then their world shook.

04:18:19

Virgil rolled off the gurney he'd been sharing with Scott and onto his working leg just as the corner of the hospital blew off behind them. He stopped and turned to stare as the first two floors of the wing they'd been in crumbled. Over the next several minutes, the third and fourth floors began sagging, until finally they gave way as well.

"Grandma!" he yelled. He was surprised when someone appeared beside him, a hand grabbing tightly to his arm. "Scott!"

"Virgil! Where are Grandma and Megan?"

He pointed wordlessly up toward the eighth floor. Fire billowed out from the ground floor of what was once the ER. Sparks flashed in the just-after-midnight darkness.

"No!" Scott cried, racing toward the hospital. "Grandma! Megan!"

Virgil began hobbling after him, gingerly using his injured leg more like a stiff crutch than a moving limb. He couldn't hope to keep up with his brother, who suddenly seemed awfully spry as he ripped the gauze from his head and tossed it aside. "Scott! Scott, come back!"

But he'd disappeared around the corner of the wing. It was only when Dr. Gray raced up from behind and said, "Uh, Sir..." that he stopped trying to follow him.

"Um, I'm Dr. Gray, and...well..." The doctor waved his finger at Virgil's backside. Blushing furiously, Virgil reached behind and pulled his gown together, covering as much of his exposed rear end as possible. "Here," Gray said, holding out a sheet.

"Thanks," Virgil mumbled, taking the offered piece of cloth. He hastily folded it into thirds, wound it around his waist and tied a tight knot, rather making it look like he was wearing a short skirt. "You watch after Alan!"

"I will!" Gray said. "I will!"

Virgil continued limping toward the end of the wing, pain causing him to break out in a sweat. "Dammit!" he cursed. "Scott!"

04:25:33

Scott jumped up and grabbed the fire escape ladder. It clanged downward. As he began climbing, he felt himself sway, his mind suddenly confused as the world spun. He shook his head, clinging desperately to the ladder, willing himself to go on. He had to. For Grandma. And for Megan.

He reached the first level of the fire escape just as the building shuddered. He heard a series of small explosions and held on to the metal railing as it moved beneath his feet. "Gotta...get up...there..." he heaved, starting for the first set of steps.

"Scott!" he heard from down below. He stopped and looked, only to find Virgil hauling himself up the ladder using his two powerful arms and one good leg.

"No! Virg! Stay back!"

"Not...on...your...life!" he ground out, moving upward rung-by-rung.

The building shifted again just as Virgil reached the landing, sending him sprawling onto his face. Scott was already up to the fourth level of stairs. He grabbed the railing and looked back down. "Virg! You okay?"

Virgil waved him on with his hand as he struggled to his feet. His mind seemed to be clogged; he was hurting so badly he couldn't even think straight. _Up,_ he thought, heading for the stairs. _Have to go up._

Scott continued to fight the pain coming from his temple and the dizzying fog that seemed to swirl before his eyes. He took the steps two-at-a-time, racing against the clock.

Megan. He thought of how they'd been tied together in the closet, of how she'd bit him...of how she'd spit the knife into his hands...God, she had to be okay. And his grandmother, the woman who had always been there, always been there for all of them. They had to have survived the blast. They just _had_ to!

Virgil struggled up the stairs by hopping from step to step, his right leg now completely useless to him. He made it to the fourth landing just as he heard Scott break a window at the top.

"MEGAN!" Scott hollered as he stepped through the window. "GRANDMA!"

_Please let them be okay, please let them be okay,_ Virgil thought as he continued his arduous journey.

04:35:26

Braman was waiting in the middle of Tracy Island's single runway with a hover stretcher when Thunderbird 4 came to a stop right next to him. The side hatch opened, and Gordon appeared, dragging his father through the door. Braman came forward and lifted Jeff into his arms, depositing him onto the stretcher and strapping him down.

Just then the subjet surfaced at a small dock to the side of the runway. "Get him to the Ward!" Gordon cried over his shoulder as he ran toward the water. "Tin-Tin!" he yelled. "Penelope!"

The top hatch of the sub opened and Tin-Tin squinted in the light as she raised a hand to shield her eyes. "Gordon!" she cried, scrambling out of the sub and skidding down its side to the dock. She raced up the stairs and met him at the top, enveloping him in a fierce hug. "Oh, Gordon, you're safe! You're safe!"

"Tin-Tin! God!" He held her tightly, then looked up as another figure picked her way over the subjet's hull and down onto the dock. "Penelope!"

"Gordon!" Penny joined them on the tarmac and was brought into the hug. She wrapped her arms around them both, then noticed movement in the distance. Stepping back, the others watched as she took in Braman, who was moving a hover stretcher into the elevator...a hover stretcher that held...

"_Jeff_!"

Penny sprinted toward the elevator with Tin-Tin and Gordon right behind her.

"Gordon, your father..."

"He's been shot, Tin-Tin. We've gotta help him!"

Tin-Tin nodded as they reached the elevator, which had already left with its cargo. Unable to wait, Penny ran through the small, open door into Thunderbird 2's hangar and headed straight for the elevator within. By the time it came to rest on the hangar floor, Tin-Tin and Gordon were on either side of her.

"He's not dead." Penny said, tears streaming down her face. "He's not dead!"

"No," Gordon replied as they began to ascend. "He's been shot, but he's hanging on."

"God!" Penny cried as Tin-Tin placed an arm around her. "Oh, thank God."

04:39:55

Scott found himself in a room that held nothing but the body of a dead police officer. He raced out into the hall but staggered as a wave of dizziness swept over him. He put his hand out and braced himself on the wall. "Not now! Not now!" he gritted through clenched teeth. Forcing his feet to move, he started down the corridor again.

Virgil had reached the top floor at last, but was having a hard time getting his bum leg in through the window. "Scott!" he called out frantically as he felt something trickling down his leg. He looked and saw the syntheskin over his wound had torn slightly, causing blood to leak out. "Dammit! Scott! Where are you?"

When he received no answer, he entered the building the only way he could...by diving headfirst through the window. It turned out to be an effective method for getting in, if not somewhat boneheaded, he thought, as sharp pain shot from his leg right up through the rest of him. Groaning as he pushed himself to his feet, he slipped and fell face-first into a body. It was only then that he realized the sticky substance he'd slipped in was the dead officer's blood.

Scott had picked up speed and rounded the corner, but saw no sight of his grandmother or Megan. "Grandma!" he called out. "Meg!"

The building shuddered again and he heard a loud crash. Assuming the fifth floor had just fallen to its doom, he spun around in a circle, trying to figure out where they'd be. "Grandma!"

And then he heard it. It was faint, but it was a voice. It was Ruth's voice! "Grandma! Where are you?"

"Stairs!" he heard her call out.

He ran to the stairwell door and pushed on it, but it wouldn't budge. "Dammit! It's been security locked!" he cried, banging on the door with his fists. He backed up and kicked it, then kicked it again, and again, and again, and again. It wouldn't give.

Panting now from the effort, he stopped to peer through the small square window. He saw Ruth down on the landing, halfway between the eighth and seventh floors. She was struggling to get out from under a rather large man and an upside-down gurney. "Grandma!"

Movement in his peripheral caused him to look right. What he saw made his blood run cold. "_Virgil_!"

Holding himself up with the railing, Virgil dragged his leg along beside him as he shuffled toward his brother. He knew he probably looked a sight, but why the hell did Scott act like he'd seen a ghost? And then he looked down. His entire front and left side as well as his arms and hands were covered in the dead officer's blood.

"Jesus! Virgil! My God!" Scott cried, racing towards him. He stopped him, hands on his shoulders. "What happened? Where're you hurt?"

"Not mine, Scott..." he said, sweat pouring down his face. "Dead cop..."

Scott closed his eyes for a second, trying to keep from either pulling his soaked brother into his arms in relief or slugging him. "Don't you _ever_ do that to me again!" he bellowed, running back to the stairwell door. "I can't get the goddamn door open!" he roared, throwing his body against it. "Grandma's in there!"

Virgil was at his side faster than he thought possible, and before long the two brothers were taking turns slamming their shoulders into the door, one at a time. It began to creak and groan under their continued efforts until at last, when Scott gave it one more go, it broke wide open. He tumbled through, barely catching himself on the railing.

Ruth's legs were caught under the dead prisoner's weight. Scott tore down the steps and hurled the gurney to the side, then pulled the man off his grandmother. He helped her to her feet and she smiled her thanks.

"Are you okay? Where's Megan?" he asked as Virgil appeared at the top of the stairs.

The hospital moved beneath them again, and another loud crash told them the sixth floor had just given way.

"I'm fine, just a few bruises. Megan...she fell over the railing when the bomb went off!" Ruth cried, pointing down to the next landing. Then she looked up and saw her other grandson soaked in blood. "Virgil!"

"Grandma, come on, we've gotta get you outta here!"

"You're hurt!"

"No! It's not mine, come on!" he yelled, holding the railing with one hand and reaching out for her with the other.

"My God, Meg!" Scott cried as he took in her twisted body. "_No_!"

Virgil glanced over the side of the stairs and whispered, "Oh, no." His eyes met Scott's and he saw the same horror he'd seen when Alan had been hurt. "Go after her," he said. "I'll get Grandma out."

Scott went down the next flight of stairs so fast his feet barely touched the floor. He landed on his knees next to her body, his hand reaching out to touch her bruised face. He didn't actually understand why his gut was churning so badly. All he knew was that he didn't want her to be dead, and that's the only thing he could wrap his mind around at this point.

"Megan...God, Meg...no..."

04:50:06

Penny, Gordon and Tin-Tin burst into the infirmary, where Braman already had Jeff moved onto a bed. Tin-Tin rushed to Brains' side and checked his vitals. She had no idea what had happened to him, but he seemed to be fine. Then she headed over to the sink and scrubbed her hands.

"Gordon! Get over here and wash up! You too, Penny!"

They did as instructed while Braman removed the Grab-Jack and compress from Jeff's shoulder. Finally cleaned up, all three returned to his side.

"What do we do, Tin-Tin?" Gordon asked.

"We've got to get that bullet out. Braman, I need a scan of his shoulder, I need to know where the bullet is lodged and what's been damaged."

"F.A.B.," Braman replied, heading for the imaging unit.

"Gordon, get me a set of med tools from the cabinet." As he ran to the other end of the room, Tin-Tin continued. "Penny, pull out the syntheblood, the one marked with Jeff's name. It's in the cabinet to your right."

Penelope nodded. In the cabinet she found rows of what looked like real blood, but was in reality something Brains and Tin-Tin themselves had created. Keeping a fresh supply of blood on the island was nearly impossible without drawing attention to themselves, and so syntheblood had been invented. On the top shelf were the packages marked _Jeff_. Penny grabbed the tray and placed it on a metal table, then wheeled it over to the bed.

"Braman, after you scan his shoulder, set up the BTU!"

"F.A.B."

Pictures spit out of the scanner, and Tin-Tin hung them on an X-ray viewer on the wall, and then flipped the light on. She and Gordon studied them. To their relief, it didn't seem that any bones had been broken, but Tin-Tin knew it wouldn't be easy to extract the bullet. "Damn," she said softly.

Penny grabbed Jeff's hand tightly, and was surprised when his hand squeezed hers back. "Jeff!" she said breathlessly as his eyelids fluttered open. "Jeff, can you hear me?"

"Pen..." he whispered, his voice all-but-gone. "Have...to tell...you..."

"What, Jeff?" she asked, bending closer to his face.

Gordon and Tin-Tin watched as his lips moved but no sound came out.

"I can't hear you!" Penny exclaimed softly. "Jeff, please don't leave me. Stay with me. You're going to be fine. You _will_ be."

"I...I--" He stopped as a wave of pain washed over him. Jeff squeezed her hand once more before his arm dropped to his side.

04:57:20

Scott gently turned Megan onto her back. He moved his hand in front of her nose and choked on the lump in his throat as he realized she was breathing. But how badly was she hurt? "Megan?" he said softly, gathering her into his arms. "Can you hear me?"

But she didn't stir. He stood and lifted one foot to place it on the step before him when, without warning, it began to shake. "Oh, no," he breathed. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, he leapt to the third step, but the building gave one great lurch, sending him flying back down to the landing with Megan still in his arms.

He moved out from beneath her as the floor continued to sway. Over in the corner he saw the concrete begin to crumble. "No!" he yelled. He lifted Meg up over his shoulder and took to the stairs again. But as he reached the landing, the gurney he'd tossed to the side earlier slid right into his legs, buckling them beneath him.

Scott and the gurney flew right back down the steps. It landed on top of him, pinning him against the wall. Megan had slipped from his grasp at the top and was half on the next landing, half on the stairs. He struggled to push the gurney off him, and wound up tossing it over toward the next set of stairs down. It was only when he didn't hear it hit them that he realized what was beneath.

Quite literally...nothing.

The gurney fell down into the darkness beyond until finally it crashed to the ground. Scott noticed for the first time the flames far below that were left over from the initial explosion. The concrete beneath his feet cracked, but he managed to throw himself onto the staircase as the floor crumbled. Crawling up the stairs, he grabbed for Megan's legs.

He reached one hand up toward the metal railing bars just as the stairs beneath him fell away.

04:59:58

04:59:59

05:00:00


	18. Hour Eighteen

**Hour Eighteen**

_The following takes place between 5:00 p.m. and 6:00 p.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

05:01:19

"Gordon! Tin-Tin! What's going on down there? Braman, begin two-way vid!"

Braman's chest plate slid down and John's live image winked into existence on the screen behind it.

"John, we need to work fast!" Tin-Tin replied as she helped Braman set up the Blood Transfusion Unit. "I have _got_ to get that bullet out of your father! But it's in there tight...I don't know if I can do it!"

"Braman can," John said simply.

They all stopped and looked at Braman's chest, from which John's solemn face looked right back at them. "You can't be serious!" Penny said.

"I've never been more so in my life, Penelope. He saved Brains. You should've seen him."

"You know, he's got a point," Gordon said. "Braman's more accurate than any human hand."

"Braman?" Tin-Tin said.

"Yes."

"What's the probability you can remove the bullet from Mr. Tracy's shoulder without complications?"

"One hundred percent."

The four humans looked at one another. Finally Tin-Tin said, "Gordon? John? Penny?"

Gordon nodded. John nodded. Penelope bit her lip. She looked at the pale face of Jeff Tracy lying on the bed beneath her, then back up to her companions. She'd never been comfortable with a mechanical human-like thing walking around, but Jeff...slowly she nodded.

"Braman?"

"Yes."

Tin-Tin pulled surgical gloves onto his mechanical hands. "Remove that bullet."

"F.A.B."

05:12:48

Scott grabbed the bar just in time. His shoulder was nearly ripped from its socket as he hung precariously from seven floors up. Megan's body began to slip. He tightened his hold on her legs. "No..." he growled. "Don't."

But gravity continued pulling at her until at last she fell toward the gaping hole beneath them. Scott cried out in pain as his hand caught her pant leg, the force of her weight yanking hard on his arm and shoulder. He tucked her legs up further into the crook of his arm, his face twisting as his body begged for mercy.

And then he heard a voice.

"Scott! Scott!"

"Virg!" he yelped as the building moved again. He strained to look up and saw Virgil's face along with a second one before he had to bow his head again.

"Hang on, Scott, we're coming!"

"Funny...Virg...what's it...look like...I'm doing?" Suddenly the second man was in his line of sight. He recognized Dr. Gray. "Get...Megan..."

Gray nodded and perched on the unstable landing. He reached out, but couldn't quite touch her. "Can you swing her over here?"

Just the thought of moving made Scott break out in a cold sweat, but he hadn't brought them this far only to allow them to fall to their deaths right before his brother's eyes. He felt a warm hand close over his own that held so tightly to the railing. He knew it was Virgil's.

"You can do it, Scott."

Gritting his teeth, Scott swung Megan back and then forward, letting out a gutteral roar as stars exploded before his eyes and pain ripped through his body. Then suddenly he felt her become nearly weightless.

"I have her!" Dr. Gray shouted. He lifted Megan up over his shoulder and headed for the stairs. "Can you get him?"

Virgil nodded. He wound himself down around the edge of the banister and held his hand out to Scott. "I can't...hold on...Virg..." he gasped, tears of pain escaping his eyes. The hospital shook again. One hand slipped from the railing as the other flailed to find purchase.

"_Scott_!"

05:18:05

Penny held one of Jeff's hands while Gordon hovered near Braman, watching his movements carefully. Tin-Tin observed the syntheblood as it flowed from the BTU into Jeff's body. The hand that came to rest on her shoulder startled her. She turned to find one very pale engineer standing behind her.

"Brains!" she cried, wrapping her arms around him.

He returned the hug and mumbled into her hair, "Y-You're here, Tin-Tin! Y-You're h-here!"

"Yes, I am," she smiled, sniffling a little. "And look who else is here."

Brains backed out of the hug and looked across the bed at Gordon, who smiled. "Gordon," he breathed. "Thank God. M-Mister...I-I mean Jeff...was so worried..." Gordon looked down. Brains' eyes followed and then widened as he saw precisely who was lying on the bed in front of him. "Jeff!" he cried out. "What happened?"

"Acronym shot him," Gordon said, his voice low and dangerous. "The bastard."

"W-What is Braman doing?"

"He's getting the bullet out, Brains," Tin-Tin said. "Mr. Tracy's going to be fine. His blood pressure's rising even as we speak."

"Oh, God!" Penny exclaimed.

"What?" they asked in unison.

"Acronym! The Hood! They're still outside!"

"Oh, no!" Tin-Tin cried. "We forgot them! How could we have forgotten them? Brains, how are you, can you get out there with Penny?"

"Uh...I-I'm fine, I guess. Just, uh, drained. A-And a bit, uh, woozy."

"Gordon?"

"Penny, come with me," Gordon said. "Brains, you stay here and help Braman and Tin-Tin."

Penny looked at Jeff one more time before following Gordon out of the ward. They ran to the elevator and waited impatiently as it descended to open onto the tarmac. As they raced across the asphalt, their worst fears were confirmed.

Thunderbird 4 still sat on the runway where Gordon had left it. But the subjet...was gone.

05:24:11

Virgil had reached out just in time to grasp his brother's free hand as the one holding the railing lost its grip. He groaned under the strain as Scott tried to bring his left arm up. But his shoulder was dislocated; he couldn't get the arm to obey him.

"Come on..." Virgil ground out. "Come on, Scott." He used one hand to haul himself slowly up the railing, pulling Scott up inch by inch until he gave one large heave-ho and yanked him clear of danger. The brothers landed atop one another on the stairs just as the structure swayed.

Scott grunted as he looked into his brother's eyes. "Virg..."

"I know, Scott. That's another one you owe me. Now let's get outta here."

Scott winced as he tucked his arm into his sash, which had somehow managed to remain intact through everything. Virgil tried to walk up the steps, but he tripped over his bad leg and lost his balance. Scott reached out with his good arm and steadied him, and together they finally made it to the top of the stairs.

Using Scott's arm as a makeshift crutch, Virgil managed to keep up with him as they headed back toward the end of the hall; back toward the room that had once held them both...back to the fire escape. Scott's arm came around Virgil's waist, and before he knew what was happening, he'd been lifted into the air, enabling him to pull his bad leg up and stick it through the window with his good one.

Scott gave him a push out the window and followed suit as the building moved again. Dr. Gray was part way up the fire escape ladder when he saw them emerge. "Quickly! It's gonna give way any minute!" he yelled up.

"All right, Virgil, onto my back."

"Huh?"

"Piggyback."

"I'm not six, Scott."

"No, and I'm not nine. But you're getting onto my back and that's an order!"

Virgil harrumphed, but knew Scott's logic was sound. There was no way he'd make it back down those steps in time. "You're askin' for it." He wrapped his arms around Scott's neck and hiked his 6'1" frame onto his brother's 6'2" one. "We look ridiculous."

"Better than looking dead," Scott said. Then he yelped. "Dammit, Virg, watch the shoulder!"

"Sorry."

Scott started racing down the steps. One of Virgil's legs was wrapped around his brother's waist, but the other dangled lifelessly near Scott's right leg, and kept banging into the railing on the way down. Virgil kept his comments to himself. He knew it wasn't Scott's fault. It didn't really matter anyway. At this point, his leg was so battered it had started going numb.

"Thank God for small favors," he mumbled.

"What?"

"Never mind. We're almost there."

"I can see that, Virg," Scott replied testily.

When they reached the first landing, Scott backed up and handed his brother down to Dr. Gray, who waited on the ladder. Gray helped Virgil descend, with Scott close behind. Once on the ground, they forced Virgil between them and lifted him, running with all their might toward the crowd gathered over eighty yards away.

Scott looked up and saw his grandmother pushing her way to the front. A great cheer erupted from the onlookers as a second person emerged to stand by her side. "Alan!" he cried.

Sighing like an enormous, exhausted giant, the entire north wing of Arlington Memorial Hospital fell at last.

05:33:07

"It can't be! They can't _both_ be gone!" Gordon cried as he emerged from Thunderbird 4.

"And why would they take the subjet rather than Thunderbird 4? Especially the Hood? All he's ever wanted is your technology!"

"I don't know. Do you still have your watch?" She nodded and removed it, handing it over as she looked out toward the ocean. "Thunderbird 5, come in."

"I'm here, Gordon. Did you find them?"

"No, John. They're gone. Both of them. And so's the subjet."

"What? Oh, God, they've escaped?"

"Looks like it. Unless..." Gordon stopped and looked at the ground beneath his feet. Then he looked up toward the rock cliff.

"What is it, Gordon?" Penny asked.

"Footprints," Gordon said, pointing down to the asphalt. "Wet footprints. And they lead..."

Penny followed the direction his finger was pointing. "Oh, no! The Hood! He's inside!"

They raced for the hangar, but just as they reached the small door it moved upward, cutting them off. They were too late.

"God! Penny!" Gordon cried, heading for the elevator to their right. "Dad's in there! And Tin-Tin, and Brains!"

"No!"

05:38:47

John opened a line to Braman. "Thunderbird 5 to Braman! Come in!"

"Braman speaking."

"Braman, quickly, the Hood's inside Base! Open two-way vid!"

John saw Brains removing the rest of his father's DDS and thermal suit as Tin-Tin sealed the wound with syntheskin. "Tin-Tin! Brains!"

"What, John, what is it?"

"Tin-Tin, listen to me. The Hood's inside Base!"

"He's _what_?" Brains exclaimed.

"Penny and Gordon are in the elevator on their way up...but the Hood's in Thunderbird 2 hangar. Who knows where he's heading? Seal the Hospital Ward _now_!"

"But Penny! And Gordon!" Tin-Tin cried as Brains ran for the control panel at the ward's entrance. She pulled a clean sheet over Jeff's body and turned to find Braman heading toward the next room. "Braman! Where are you going?"

"To help Gordon and Lady Penelope," his monotone voice replied. "I will seal secondary entrance upon leaving."

"Brains! What's he _doing_?"

Returning to Jeff's bedside, Brains watched his greatest invention ever leave the room. "He's doing just what he said."

"But how can he help them? He's not meant for combat! He can't possibly know what to do!"

"With John controlling him, he can."

05:43:25

Scott reached down and pulled Alan into a gentle hug, mindful of his burns. Virgil came over next, and the three brothers held on to one another for a moment, their heads touching, silently drawing strength from their bond, trying to give themselves the energy they'd need to face whatever came next, grateful just to be together and safe. Ruth hugged Dr. Gray just as someone yelled, "It's International Rescue!"

The crowd of nearly fifty people, who moments before had been cheering, became silent when they took in the uniform worn by one of the men who'd just escaped from the hospital; the man now standing huddled with two others who wore hospital gowns. Another voice yelled out, "It's their fault this happened! They're the ones to blame!"

"Oh, God," Dr. Gray said, his arm remaining protectively around Ruth's shoulders. "We're gonna have an angry mob on our hands in a minute!"

Scott, Alan and Virgil just looked at the throng of people, some of whom wore hospital gowns, many of whom looked as though they'd gotten out of bed just to come and see what all the ruckus was about.

"How many more people have to die before you tell us who you _really_ are!" a woman screamed.

"They're not responsible for this!" Dr. Gray yelled, waving his free hand toward the ruined hospital. "Acronym is!"

The people murmured until another voice was heard. "That's only because he wants them to give themselves up!"

A chorus of 'Yeah!' and 'That's right!' showed the crowd's agreement.

"Grandma, where's Megan?" Scott whispered as he and his brothers began to back up.

"Dr. Gray put her in Thunderbird 1," Ruth replied.

"You guys get outta here," Gray said, pushing Ruth away from him. "I'll try to stall them."

"No, Dr. Gray, we won't leave you! We _need_ you!" Ruth protested as Scott grabbed her arm.

Virgil and Alan stopped and turned. "Come on, Doctor," Virgil said. "Come with us. Grandma's right. Megan's hurt, and we're not in that great of shape either. We _do_ need you. If you want to come."

Dr. Gray turned back to face the masses. As much as he hated to do it, he raised an arm above his head and pointed behind them. "There's one of 'em now! He's getting away! After him!"

They turned like a herd of cattle, a great cry erupting from their lips, and headed in the other direction. Only one woman and her small child remained. Gray turned and followed the others to Thunderbird 1. By the time he reached the rocket plane, Scott had unlocked the hatch, and Ruth and Alan were already inside. He helped Virgil climb the ladder, then started up himself.

Scott was surprised to see a small boy who couldn't have been more than three run up to him. He moved to one knee so he was more eye-level with the youngster. He could see a woman in the distance jogging toward them. Scott reached out and ruffled the towhead's hair. "You'd better stand back, young man," he said, a sad smile forming upon his lips. "We're gonna blast off soon."

By this time the horde realized they'd been duped, and were now heading straight for Scott and the boy. "It's not safe for you here," he said. "What's your name?"

"Joshie," the boy replied. "What's you name?"

"I'm Scott."

The people had reached them, but stopped short when they saw the toddler hold a dandelion out to the man they'd wanted to capture. The boy's mother ran up and stood right in front of the two.

Scott took the bedraggled flower, a lump forming in his throat.

"Scott. You Intoonashnoo Wescue?"

"Yeah," he chuckled. "Intoonashnoo Wescue. That's us."

"What happened you awm?"

"I hurt it."

"Be okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah. It'll be okay."

Suddenly Joshie threw himself on Scott, wrapping his arms around his neck and jarring his shoulder, but Scott held his grunt of pain in. The boy placed a slobbery wet kiss on his cheek and said, "You save my Mommy. I no be here if you no save my Mommy. I wuv you."

Joshie's mother began to cry, her hand flying to her mouth. Yes, International Rescue _had_ saved her life once. Hers, her older son Tommy's and her husband Joe's. Scott couldn't help the tears that formed in his eyes as Joshie let him go. He looked up as he rose to his feet, watching the boy go back to his mother. And when he looked at Joshie's mom...he knew exactly who she was.

Blanche smiled. "We still believe in you," she said, holding her son close.

"Thank you," he whispered. Then he looked up as Ruth's face appeared from above.

"Scott..."

He turned back to look at Blanche and Joshie. "We have to go."

Blanche nodded. The crowd, only a moment ago bent on hauling Scott and the others off for a proverbial tar-and-feathering, stood in stunned silence.

"Bye, Joshie."

Grinning from ear to ear, the little boy waved his small arm with all his might. "Bye-bye!" he called out.

Scott waved and disappeared into his ship. The ladder retracted and the hatch slid closed. Several long minutes passed as Virgil and Dr. Gray worked Scott's shoulder back into place. He nearly passed out, but managed to remain with them as he grasped Joshie's dandelion in his good hand. When at last he made it to the pilot's chair, Scott fired up the engines. The crowd, moving as though it were one single being, stepped back.

"What happened out there?" Virgil asked from one of the seats just below and to the right of Scott's suspended pilot's chair.

"Yeah, Scott. Why didn't those people attack you?" Alan asked from his position next to Virgil.

"A weed," Scott replied, placing the dandelion on his leg. "A weed and a little boy who's got more sense than fifty people ten times his age." He fired Thunderbird 1's booster rocket and the ship began lifting into the air. He hovered for a moment, looking out the right viewing window. Blanche and Joshie were waving. And to his surprise, so were the rest of the people. "Thanks, Joshie," he said, wiggling his fingers one last time.

And they were gone.

05:58:30

Brains and Tin-Tin paced the floor, alternately looking out of the ward's windows and checking Jeff's vital signs. Suddenly there was banging and yelling from the door. They recognized the voices.

"Penelope!" Brains cried.

"Gordon!" Tin-Tin yelled.

They raced to the door, but just as Brains' hand moved to unlock it, he saw a sight that froze him solid.

Standing right behind Gordon and Penelope was none other than the Hood.

05:59:58

05:59:59

06:00:00


	19. Hour Nineteen

**Hour Nineteen**

_The following takes place between 6:00 p.m. and 7:00 p.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

06:00:32

Brains jabbed the button and the door swished open. Penny and Gordon rushed inside, with Brains starting to close the door before they'd even made it all the way. The Hood lunged after them, but only succeeded in slamming himself against the two-inch thick metal. He moved to the side and glared at them through a window, his eyes starting to glow.

"No!" Penny cried, covering Brains' eyes with her hand and closing her own. "Don't look at him! Turn away!"

All four ran to Jeff's bedside. Gordon raised his wrist, upon which he now wore Penelope's watch, to his face. "John! Come in!"

"Gordon! Where are you?"

"In the Ward. John, the Hood's right outside, he's trying to...to do whatever it is he does with his eyes!"

"Don't look, Gordo!"

"We won't! We have our backs turned, we're over by Dad!"

"Braman's on his way! Is the Hood still out there?"

Gordon turned to glance behind him. Indeed, their archenemy still stood at the window. "Yes! He's right outside the main door! Why the hell is he just _standing_ there?"

"Braman's got a laser rifle. We're almost there. Take cover! Get Dad back!"

"F.A.B.!" Gordon replied. He, Penny and Tin-Tin wheeled Jeff into the next room, a room normally used for lab tests run on patients...a room that had no windows.

"Brains! Where's Brains?" Tin-Tin exclaimed.

Gordon raced back into the main bay, then over to the bathroom, where he found Brains ripping a mirror off the wall. "What are you doing?"

Brains turned, mirror in hand. "I-I'm gonna give that guy a-a taste o-of his own medicine," he said.

Gordon watched in fascination as Brains approached the front wall, out of the Hood's line of sight. He'd never seen their engineer...his friend...sport such a set of steel ones. The rather small mirror was hidden behind his back, and suddenly Gordon knew what he was about to do. Seeking to distract their enemy, he made a great show of grabbing a scalpel and waving it in the Hood's direction. The evil man's only response was to laugh. It was a laugh that sent chills down Gordon's spine.

Suddenly Brains moved. He leapt to the window, mirror held in front of his face. He had no idea if this would work, but even if it worked a little, it might buy some time for Braman to get there.

The Hood was startled. He'd fully intended to mesmerize one of them enough to get them to open the door, but wound up with only a few seconds to process what was happening before his mind began to cloud over. The rage that began building inside him fizzled like a dud firecracker as he stared at his own reflection.

"It's working, Brains!" Gordon exclaimed, running to the engineer's side. "It's working!"

The Hood staggered back, then his body went stiff as a board. He just stood there in the middle of the hall. At last his eyes stopped glowing, and Brains lowered the mirror. Gordon clapped him on the back. "You did it!"

"Yes, but where's, uh, Braman?"

"There!" Gordon cried.

Penelope and Tin-Tin joined them, and together they watched Braman, with John's face looking out from his chest, approach the Hood's statuesque form.

"John!" Gordon said into the watch.

"What happened to him?" John asked.

"Brains gave him a dose of his own medicine," Gordon replied triumphantly. "Do you think Braman can get him down to Containment before he comes to?"

"I'll see that he does. Wait! Gordon! Call coming through from Thunderbird 1! I'll patch him through. Then Braman and I are getting the Hood locked away. Listening out."

"Scott?"

"Gordon? _Gordon_!"

"Scott!" Tin-Tin cried.

"Tin-Tin! My God, where are you?"

"We're home!" Tin-Tin said, smiling into the watch face. "Where are you? Where is everybody? Where's Alan?"

"Virgil, Alan and Grandma are in Thunderbird 2. I'm in Thunderbird 1 and we're on our way home."

"Everyone's all right?" Gordon asked.

"Yes, for the most part. We're all pretty banged up, and Megan's still unconscious, but Dr. Gray's looking after her in Thunderbird 2's Med Bay. They'll be taking off as soon as everyone's settled. Gordon, my God...you have no idea..."

"Yeah, Scott, I kinda think I do."

"How's Dad? And Penelope?"

"Right here, Scott," Penny said, moving slightly so she could see him. "I'll be fine. Your father seems to be recovering nicely. His blood pressure's returned to normal. Tin-Tin says he'll pull through."

"What's that John said about Braman and the Hood?"

"John's got control o-of Braman, uh, Scott. H-He's going to, uh, take the Hood down to Containment."

"How'd you keep hold of him long enough to do _that_?"

"I-I'll tell you a-about it sometime, uh, Scott."

"Okay, Brains, I'll hold you to that. ETA to Base exactly forty-five minutes. You gonna have that UH-3 counter agent ready for me?"

"O-Oh...oh, no, the counter agent!" Brains moaned. "I-I've been so...damn!"

"Brains, what do we need to do?" Tin-Tin asked.

"I-I'll need you and Gordon...and Braman, once John's, uh, finished with him...down in the Lab. I-I have no idea how, uh, far Braman got on the formula."

"Can we do it, Brains?"

"I have one hour?"

Scott nodded.

Brains looked at Gordon, who gave him the thumbs-up, then turned back to face Scott. "We can do it."

"What shall I do?"

"Penelope," Gordon said as they unlocked and opened the main door. "You stay here with Dad."

"But Gordon, I need to _do_ something!"

Gordon thought a moment. "Where's Parker?"

"Oh, my goodness! He's still off the coast of California in FAB One!"

"What? What's he doing there?"

"Gordon!" Brains exclaimed. "I have it! Uh, give the watch back to, uh, Lady Penelope!"

"Here!" Gordon said, tossing the watch to her. He turned to look at Brains. "Now what?"

"Uh, Lady Penelope, get Parker to, uh, call California right away! And have him try to find, uh, Ned Cook. I just got it! _Now_ I know w-why, uh, Jeff sent all the I-International Rescuees there to begin with! Make sure, uh, they're all i-in place. I-It's essential!"

Penny said, "F.A.B.," and turned to walk into the next room where Jeff still lay on his movable bed.

"International Rescuees?" Gordon and Tin-Tin asked together.

"Later," Brains said, rushing out of the room. "We've got to get that formula finished!"

06:30:29

Ned Cook realized rather quickly that he hadn't properly thought the whole thing through. Not only was the hydrofoil now out of fuel and stranded in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, but he'd spent the last hour emptying the contents of his stomach directly _into_ said ocean. It hadn't helped that he and Barry had nearly come to blows when Ned had asked why the hell he hadn't been told how much fuel the hydrofoil held and Barry had retorted that he hadn't been _told_ they were trying to get to Fiji.

Mrs. Turner approached him with trepidation. "Um, Mr. Cook?"

"What?" he heaved, willing his stomach to stop flip-flopping.

"Barry's just received a call. Someone from International Rescue is looking for you."

That got his attention. He stood up straight, took the bottle of water Rose offered him, and headed into the cabin. "Someone on the line for me?"

"Yeah, some guy named Parker. He talks kinda funny." Barry handed him the microphone. "Uh, you okay, Mr. Cook? You look...bad."

Ned gave him the look of death. "Thank you for pointing that out." Then he raised the microphone to his mouth. "This is Ned Cook speaking."

"Mister Cook, so there you h'are."

"Yes. Is this Parker?"

"Yes, Sir. I'm wiv H'International Rescue, h'in a liaison role, you might say."

"I see. What can I do for you?"

"H'International Rescue requests your h'assistance with the members h'of H'International Rescuees."

"Well, I'd love to help you out, but right now I'm stranded out in the middle of nowhere."

"Yes, I 'ave a fix on your position. I will h'arrange transportation for you h'and your h'escorts."

"Oh, thank you!" Ned cried, praising the heavens for his good fortune. "And when will this transportation arrive?"

"Just h'under twen'y minutes, Sir."

"Great! We'll be waiting!"

"Very well, Sir. In the meantime, h'if you wouldn't mind, please check in wiv your 'ome Base h'in Los Angeles to confirm placement h'of your group."

"Will do. Cook out." He turned to Barry. "How do I get my IRee Base on here?"

Barry flipped a couple of switches. "You're on," he said.

"This is Ned Cook calling International Rescuee Mobile Base. Come in, Mobile Base."

06:34:32

"All right, Parker, we'll stop and winch them up on our way back to Base. You sit tight."

"But Scott, what about the two people with Cook?" John broke in as Parker severed his connection. "How do we know we can trust them?"

"We don't," Scott replied. "But we can't just leave them stranded in the middle of the ocean. Where's Parker now?"

"Same spot, 200 miles off the coast of California."

"All right. I'll have Virgil pick him up on his way home. How'd it go with Braman?"

"Fine. We've got the Hood locked away in Containment 2, and I had Braman check on Dr. Otayuki in Containment 1. He's mighty pissed off, but otherwise none the worse for wear. Braman's gone to the lab to help out with the formula."

"F.A.B. Any more news on Dad?"

"No, Scott, he isn't awake yet."

Scott sighed. The day's events were taking their toll. His shoulder still hurt like hell. He cringed as he recalled the indescribable pain he'd felt when Dr. Gray had popped it back into place with a sickening crunch. His body was drained. And time was running out. Could they save Southern California? And where had Acronym gone?

His thoughts were interrupted by John's somewhat excited voice. "Scott? Get in touch with Virgil. Here's what Brains wants him to do..."

06:38:18

"Thunderbird 1 to Thunderbird 2."

"Here, Scott," came Virgil's tired voice.

"You okay? How you holdin' up?"

"I'll live."

"Well, that's good to hear," he replied sarcastically. "Listen, Virg, you've gotta make a few stops on your way home. You know the new Invisi-Shield Brains invented?"

"Yeah, there's a whole pile of about a hundred of those gadgets down in Thunderbird 2 Lab. Why?"

"You need to drop those off in San Diego, Los Angeles, Palm Springs and Barstow. Just drop them by parachute. From there, they'll be transported around the southern half of the state to all the groups of International Rescuees."

"Oh, I get it!" Virgil exclaimed. "Dad's a genius."

"No, Dad's the one who came up with the plan. Brains is the genius. He's the only one who figured out why Dad wanted those people there in the first place!"

"Gotta give the guy credit."

"Virg?"

"Yeah?"

"How's Megan?"

"Still unconscious, last I heard from Dr. Gray. Grandma's back there with 'em, she made Alan go back to the Med Bay, too. He started fading on us shortly after lift-off."

"Damn. Who's gonna help you get those Invisi-Shield units ready?"

"Don't worry. We'll have 'em ready."

"And your leg?"

"Still attached."

Scott shook his head. "You're a big help. After you're done with the Shield units, drop the Pod and pick up Parker. You should be able to get him on your scanners, he's a couple hundred miles off the coast."

"F.A.B."

"Virg?"

"Yeah, Scott."

"Never mind."

"Scott?"

"Yeah?"

"I told you, she'll be fine."

"I have to pick up Ned now. Goodbye, Virgil."

Virgil couldn't help but smirk as Scott cut the line.

06:43:22

Penny paced miserably to and fro the entire width of the room. Biting her lip, she checked in with John for the tenth time. He calmly told her...for the tenth time...to stay right where she was in case his father woke up.

"You should listen to John."

Penny nearly jumped out of her skin. She turned slowly to find Jeff sitting on the edge of the bed, legs dangling over the side. He'd pulled the sheet around his waist, leaving his chest...and the syntheskin covering the wound on his shoulder...bare. At first she couldn't do anything but stare at him. Except for being a bit pale and drawn, he looked as though nothing had ever happened...right down to the smile on his face.

"Hi, Penny."

"Jeff..." She walked up to him and grasped his hands firmly, trembling as she fought to control her emotions. "Jeff. How _are_ you?"

"I feel like the hind end of a mule. How 'bout you?"

"Perfect now that you're back with us."

Jeff looked around the deserted room and asked, "Speaking of us, where's Gordon? And Tin-Tin? And Brains?"

"They're all in the laboratory trying to get that formula worked out. Scott's on his way home, as are Virgil, Alan, your mother...oh, Jeff!"

"Pen...what?"

"It was terrible! Acronym told us...when we were on the sub...he told us he'd...that he'd _killed_ you!" Wrapping one arm around her, Jeff pulled her close. Her hands enveloped his neck as her cheek rested upon his shoulder. "I'm trying awfully hard not to cry," she whispered.

He chuckled. She _knew_ tears were something the Tracy men didn't handle well.

"Jeff..."

"Yeah?"

"When you awakened here in the ward earlier...do you remember?"

He swallowed hard. "Yes. I do. I thought I was going to die."

"You did?"

He nodded.

"Is that why you...is that the only reason...Jeff, what were you going to say to me?"

He pulled her body away so he could look into her soft blue eyes. Images of the past came into his mind, memories of a time that seemed so long ago...a time when he'd spoken those words to only one woman...and vowed he'd never speak them to another for as long as he lived. His mouth opened...and he found he couldn't do it. He couldn't say it to Penelope. He felt it. God knew he felt it. But...he just couldn't.

At first, Penny felt hurt. But then, as she looked into his beautiful gray-blue eyes, the hurt simply vanished. She knew. And she understood why he wasn't ready yet. Well, it didn't matter if it took forever. She hadn't come this far just to discard him like yesterday's news. And a Creighton-Ward _never_ gave up _that_ easily.

Ever the Lady, Penelope smiled graciously. "I think we'd better tell the boys you're awake."

06:53:34

"You sure you're up to this, Alan?"

"Yes, Dr. Gray. I'm sure. We have to get these things bundled and ready to drop."

The doctor eyed his patient warily, and then turned his attention to the most energetic and unbelievable ninety-year old woman he'd ever met in his life. "What about you, Ruth?"

"One hundred percent!" she smiled, carrying a two-pound Invisi-Shield unit over to where Alan was stacking the triangle-shaped devices into a tarpaulin. "As my mother always used to say, many hands make light work!"

"I used to hate it when _my_ mother said that."

"Why's that, Doctor?" Ruth asked, genuinely interested.

"Because that meant it was my turn to help with the dishes."

06:55:24

"Thunderbird 2 to Thunderbird 1."

"Thunderbird 1 here."

"Alan, Dr. Gray and Grandma are working on those Shield Units as we speak."

"Great! Ned and the two International Rescuees are on board and seated rather uncomfortably in the back."

"How'd they take to the ride in the harness?"

"Oh, Rose and Barry Turner loved it. Ned, on the other hand..."

Virgil chuckled. "I figured as much."

"Uh...Virgil..."

"She's fine, Scott. Dr. Gray said she broke her left ankle and left wrist, and she's got a whopper of a concussion, but other than that, from what he could tell she's all right."

"That's good," he breathed. "Has she regained consciousness yet?"

"No, Scott. Gray gave her a sedative to help with the pain."

"What about you? Did you get some of that?"

"While I'm flying? Not on your life!"

There was almost a full minute of radio silence before Scott spoke. "Virg?"

"Yeah?"

"Why is the channel still open between us?"

"Uh...I don't know. It's just...it's kinda quiet, that's all."

Scott frowned. "I know what you mean. _Too_ quiet."

"Exactly. Makes you wonder when the other shoe's gonna drop."

06:58:15

Dressed in a HazMat suit, Gordon began pouring the perfected anti-UH-3 compound into a machine that would take the liquid, freeze-dry it and grind it into a powder. While he worked at that, Braman was mass-producing the liquid, working so fast it made the humans' heads spin. Brains tested the formula on his last sample of UH-3, praying the results were the same...neutralization.

At first, no one noticed that Tin-Tin had looked up from where she was preparing the membrane-thin sacks that would serve as transportation for the newly created powder. No one noticed that her eyes became glassy. No one noticed that she stiffened, that her eyes filled with tears.

"Father," she whispered inaudibly.

Gordon moved to take the first pan of yellowish powder over to her and stopped dead in his tracks. "Tin-Tin?" When she didn't respond, he placed the pan on a nearby table and closed his eyes. Could he do it again? Could he reach her?

Brains finally looked up from his microscope long enough to realize something was wrong. "Gordon?" he said, coming to stand next to them. "Tin-Tin?"

Suddenly their eyelids opened wide and they stared at one another. "No!" Gordon whispered. "It can't be!"

"What?" Brains asked, looking from one to the other then back again. "What can't be?"

"Tin-Tin?" Gordon said, taking a step closer to her.

Her jaw dropped and tears began running down her face. "No! Father!"

"Tin-Tin, what is it?" Brains practically shouted. "Gordon!"

"Father! _Father_!" she cried, stumbling back into a metal table. "No! Father!"

"Gordon!" Brains screeched. "What the _hell_ is going on?"

Removing his HazMat helmet, Gordon looked at Tin-Tin for a few seconds before turning to meet Brains' eyes. "It's Kyrano," he said, voice full of anguish. "Acronym has Kyrano."

06:59:58

06:59:59

07:00:00


	20. Hour Twenty

**Hour Twenty**

_The following takes place between 7:00 p.m. and 8:00 p.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

07:00:29

When Jeff and Penny entered the lab, they didn't expect to find the humans standing dead still while Braman still worked furiously in the next room. They didn't expect to see tears streaming down Tin-Tin's face. They didn't expect to see Gordon and Brains staring at one another, eyes round as saucers.

The movement of them approaching caught Gordon's eye. When he took in the sight of his father fully dressed and walking under his own power, his normally laid-back manner disappeared as he rushed to stand before him. "Dad!"

Jeff reached out and pulled his son into a hug. "Gordon."

"Dad, you're--you're okay!"

"And you?"

Gordon pulled away. His face was pained.

"What's happened? Tin-Tin?" Jeff approached the young lady he'd always treated like a surrogate daughter. She launched herself into his arms and began to cry in earnest. Jeff cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Tin-Tin?"

"It's Acronym, Dad," Gordon offered as he and Penelope joined them. "He's got Kyrano."

"He _what_?" Jeff roared, gently pushing Tin-Tin away. "Where are they?"

"I-I don't know, Mr. Tracy!" Tin-Tin cried. "I held his thoughts for only a moment before something happened and now I can't reach him!"

"Gordon, get on the line to the hospital and police in Sydney."

"F.A.B.," he said, scurrying out of the lab.

"Brains, how's the UH-3 counter agent coming along?"

"Uh, just fine, erm, Jeff."

A small smile graced Jeff's face in spite of everything. He found it amusing that someone he'd known for so long had such a difficult time calling him by his given name. "Do you need help?"

"I-I could use a-an extra pair of hands."

"I'll assist you, Brains, if I can."

"Thanks, Lady Penelope. I-I'll need you to get into a-a HazMat suit."

"Very well. I know where they're stored."

"I'm gonna give Scott a call," Jeff said. He and Penny exchanged a look Brains couldn't quite read before Jeff headed for the Lounge.

07:16:39

Kyrano couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't reach out with his mind. All he could do was lay there on the gurney as he was wheeled through the hospital, watching the lights pass one by one above him.

Canton strode confidently to the elevator. He looked for all the world like a doctor just transporting a patient. He wore a white lab coat and a stethoscope was hanging around his neck. Had anyone taken a very _close_ look at the badge on his lapel, they would've realized it wasn't a true hospital ID...but as it was, Michael had made it this far without being questioned.

The elevator opened into a back hall of the hospital. He wheeled the gurney down the hall and right out the rear doors, where an ambulance awaited him. Loading Kyrano up into it, he secured the gurney, and then closed the double doors on his newest hostage. Smiling with satisfaction, he got into the driver's seat of the ambulance, started it up and sped away.

Bound to the gurney in the rear of the ambulance, Kyrano lay helpless. One lone tear escaped his eye.

07:21:00

"Thunderbird 1 from International Rescue."

"Father!"

"Hello, Scott."

"You're all right?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"You don't _look_ fine."

Jeff grinned. "What do you want from an old man who's been shot?"

Scott chuckled. The old man bit was a running gag between him and his father. His brothers had even started calling him 'Old Man the Second', a title he wasn't particularly fond of except when it gave the two "old men" a good laugh.

"Listen, Scott, bad news."

"I knew it was too quiet. What is it?"

"Acronym has Kyrano."

"No."

Jeff nodded. "I'm afraid so. Tin-Tin doesn't know exactly where they are. She's lost her connection to him. I've got Gordon on the line to the hospital and police to try and stop Acronym. But..."

"Don't worry, Dad. I'll detour to Sydney. That's good, actually. I can drop Ned and the Turners off while I'm there."

"Ned...Ned's with you?"

"Yeah, Dad. He got a wild hair up his ass to try and make it as far as Fiji on a World Navy hydrofoil and ended up getting stranded in the middle of the Pacific."

"Not the brightest of moves," Jeff replied absentmindedly. His son watched him work through something in his mind before he continued. "Scott, while you're in Sydney, have Ned get hold of some broadcasting equipment."

"Broadcasting equipment? Why? What're you up to?"

"Never you mind, Scott. But I want Ned and that equipment back here as soon as you've seen to Kyrano."

"But Dad, Ned Cook's a reporter! You want him to know where our Base is?"

"He can't see the route from the midsection of Thunderbird 1."

"But he'll know we're in Sydney, and it's only a short ride from there home."

Jeff sighed. "I have to trust him, Scott. He put himself on the line for us. He's helped us immensely. I just have to trust that he won't let us down. And anyway, if Acronym succeeds in destroying Southern California, it really won't matter anymore."

Scott nodded solemnly. "All right, Father. I'll let Virg and the others know what's going on."

"No...Scott...I'll call Virgil myself."

Scott understood completely. Jeff hadn't seen Virgil at all since this had started so many hours ago, and the last time he'd seen Alan was when he was fighting for his life at Arlington Hospital. He nodded and said, "F.A.B. Thunderbird 1 out."

Jeff ran a hand through his hair, realizing that this was now the third time he'd been sitting behind his desk and done just that. Asking for the broadcasting equipment...Jeff only hoped he was doing the right thing. Penelope had brought him up-to-speed before they'd gone to the lab, and he'd been watching WNN since arriving in the Lounge.

He was relieved to discover the earthquakes in Fiji hadn't been as catastrophic as he'd feared, but still, more than one hundred people had died. And all those lost souls in D.C. Every one of his loved ones had been hurt in some way...and more people in Arlington were dead because of Canton's vengeance upon International Rescue. It had to end. Somehow, somewhere, it just had to end. And Jeff knew it was time.

He sighed as he opened a channel to Thunderbird 2. The world as he knew it, the world he'd worked so hard and so long to build, the organization he and his family and friends had poured their lives and souls into, was about to end. As much as it hurt, he knew it was the right thing to do. He had to work hard to keep his voice steady.

"International Rescue to Thunderbird 2."

07:32:40

Virgil jumped when he heard Jeff's voice. "Father?"

"Hi, Virgil. How are ya, Son?"

"Dad! You...they said...I thought you'd been shot!"

"I had. I mean, I was. But between Braman, Brains and Tin-Tin, I'm just about good as new. How's your leg? Speaking of which, how the hell is it you're flying Thunderbird 2 with only one leg?"

"Rudder controls by hand, Dad, remember? Brains just installed 'em about a year ago, but I've never had to use 'em before."

Jeff chuckled. "I can't believe I forgot that. I must be getting senile in my old age."

Virgil knew the old man routine and chuckled. "Funny, Dad. Although right now I'd bet I feel a helluva older than you do." Right on cue, a bolt of pain shot right through Virgil's body. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, praying he wouldn't pass out.

"Virgil? You all right?"

"Yeah, Dad."

"Don't go passing out on me before you get home."

What was he, a mind reader? "I won't."

"How's Alan?"

"Seems to be holding up pretty well, all things considered. He's in a lot of pain, I can tell, but he refuses to stay in sick bay. He's with Grandma and Dr. Gray dropping the Invisi-Shields from the hatch."

"You tell him to get back to bed!"

"Dad. Have you ever tried making Al do something he doesn't want to do?"

Jeff sighed. "I see your point."

"We've hit Barstow and Palm Springs and are just about on the drop point for LA. After that it'll be San Diego and then out to pick up Parker off the coast."

"Thank God Brains figured it out."

"Yeah. We would've lost time if we'd had to turn around and come back from Base."

"This Dr. Gray...you trust him?"

"Yeah, Dad. He fixed Al and me up, and he's helped us a lot. I trust him. I say we make him an agent for International Rescue."

"If there's an International Rescue left," Jeff replied grimly.

Virgil frowned. "Are you gonna go public?"

"I'm gonna have it set up so I can if the situation calls for it."

"But Dad, with the Invisi-Shields and the UH-3 counter agent, we'll be able to keep the people of Southern California safe."

"That's true. But how many more people are going to die because of Michael Canton's personal vendetta against me? We can't run around putting Invisi-Shields up every time he threatens a large population."

"So if we don't capture Canton..."

"I'm letting the cat out of the bag."

"Does Scott know this?"

"Well, I didn't tell him but I'm sure he's guessed," Jeff sighed, rubbing his chin. "I don't want that on his mind. He needs to find Kyrano."

"Kyrano? What do you mean?"

"Canton's got him."

"Damn."

"I know. Son, pick Parker up and get back here as soon as you can."

"F.A.B."

"Base out."

"Dad?" Jeff looked up as Gordon approached him. "Did I just hear you right? Are you outing us?"

"Not yet, Gordon. But I have to be prepared to. If for no other reason than to save Kyrano's life."

Gordon sank onto the settee. "I can't believe it could all end in just a few short hours."

"I know, Son. I know."

"We can't let it happen, Dad. We just can't! Not everything you've worked so hard for."

"Everything _we've_ worked so hard for, Gordon." Jeff sighed and rose to his feet, coming around to perch on the edge of his desk. "This may have been my dream, but it's you boys who've made it a reality." Gordon watched his father carefully. He seemed...so sad. Not at all like Gordon was used to seeing him.

"You know, after your mother died, I--I just didn't want to go on. No...it's not that I didn't want to, I _couldn't_. I couldn't face the world without her. I couldn't face our sons." He stopped and looked directly into Gordon's eyes. "I started feeling that way again when Acronym told me he had you."

"Dad, I'm--I'm sorry."

Jeff dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand. "It's not your fault." He stopped and a flash of pain shot across his face as his hand touched the gunshot wound. "I don't know how it happened exactly...one day I woke up and realized...realized that even though Lucy was gone, I still had part of her with me, living right under the same roof I was. Five parts, actually."

Gordon smiled. It had been a very long time since his dad had talked about his mom's death so openly.

"That's when I knew I had to do something...something that would make her proud, something that would show her I'd take care of our boys for her. I couldn't let her down." Jeff came to his feet again and moved to sit down in the chair behind his desk. "But with all these people dead...I feel like I have."

Gordon stood and approached his father's desk. "I knew a man once," he said, "who got hurt real bad in an accident. The doctors told his dad he'd never live, or even if he did, that he'd never walk again." Jeff looked up at him, recognition evident on his face.

"But that man's father didn't listen to what everyone said was going to happen to him. He sat down right next to him one day after the doctors left. He sat down, he held his son's hand, and he said, 'You _will_ walk again. You will live and you will walk.' The man didn't believe him at first. He couldn't move anything, his arms, his legs. Nothing. Day after day, his father came to him and told him, 'You will walk, Son. You will walk.'"

Gordon hesitated. He wasn't any more used to baring his soul than his father, but he felt this needed to be said...needed to be acknowledged between them. "And the man had such faith in his father, such belief in him as a person, that he started accepting his words. He started to believe that he would live. That he _would_ walk." Gordon stepped away from the desk, raised his arms in the air and turned a slow circle. "And look at me now. You didn't give up on me, Dad, and I made it. Don't give up on International Rescue."

Jeff rose to his feet, steadying himself on the desk with his hands. He watched Gordon walk to the kitchen. Walk.

_Walk._

And he smiled.

07:44:11

"Okay, Virg, I see Parker below in FAB One. Go ahead and release the Pod."

"F.A.B., Alan."

Pod 5 hit the water with a mighty splash, and then Virgil lowered the front flap. Parker turned off FAB One's hydrofoils and drove up the ramp. He secured the pink Rolls Royce, then signaled to Virgil that he and the car were ready to be picked up. Virgil slowly lowered Thunderbird 2 over her missing Pod like a giant bird settling in atop her egg. All clamps clicked into place, and Virgil fired his VTOL rockets to raise them back into the air.

While Ruth and Dr. Gray spoke with Parker inside the Pod, Alan headed for the cockpit to speak with Virgil. He had a notion...it sounded crazy given everything that had happened that day, but what started out as a niggling thought had blossomed into a full-out idea, and he couldn't let it rest.

"Hey, Virg?"

"Alan, what're you doing up here? You should be in bed."

"I need to talk to you," he said, wincing with each movement. He'd overdone it with the Invisi-Shield units, and he knew it. But at least it was done.

"Okay. What about?"

Alan seated himself in one of the chairs behind his brother and sighed. "When I woke up outside the hospital, Grandma was there with me. She helped me off the gurney and I followed her to the front of the crowd, where I saw Scott and Dr. Gray running toward us with you between them."

"Yeah..."

"And then when the crowd of people started in about this all being our fault...the destruction of D.C., the hospital, all the deaths...well, when Dr. Gray tried to tell them it was Acronym's fault, someone yelled out it was only because he wanted us to reveal ourselves to the world."

"Right..."

"Virgil? What if Acronym isn't doing this to get back at Dad?"

"I'm not following."

"What if he's got some other agenda, and he's just using us as a...well, as a smoke screen?"

Virgil turned sideways in his chair to look at his youngest brother. Alan's hair was cleaner now than it had been before, but it was misshapen thanks to having been scorched. And there was a large piece of gauze taped over his Adam's apple, where one of the worst burns had been. His IR uniform covered the rest of him, but Virgil knew that beneath its fabric there were many more scars that would need time to heal. Both inside and out.

He wondered if Alan were trying to justify what had happened to him in some way other than their current belief that it all stemmed back to their father's youth. As though somehow if he gave Acronym some other reason for doing what he did, it would absolve Jeff of any responsibility for what had occurred today.

"I know what you're thinking, Virg. And no, I'm not looking for excuses for Dad or anyone else. Besides, I don't blame him for any of this. Even if the only reason Acronym's doing this is to get back at him, it's not _his_ fault the guy's a lunatic. I just...I can't help thinking there's something more, something we're missing."

"Have you talked to Dad about it?"

"I haven't talked to Dad at _all_."

Virgil turned and opened a com line. "Then maybe it's time you did. Thunderbird 2 calling Base."

"With you, Virgil."

"Someone here to speak to you, Dad."

Jeff watched as Alan's face replaced Virgil's in the portrait screen. "Alan. You look a lot better than the last time I saw you."

"Hi, Dad. I am, thanks." His face twisted as his uniform rubbed hard against a particularly large burn on his stomach. "You got shot, huh?"

"Yes, and it hurts like hell. Remind me never to do it again."

"Ditto for me firing nitro pellets into unexploded bombs."

"You should be resting."

"Not yet. I have to tell you something."

"What is it?"

"I have this idea..."

07:54:09

Tin-Tin had forced herself to get back to work. As much as she feared for her father's safety, she also had complete trust in Jeff Tracy that he'd do everything in his power to get him back. After all, he'd both directly and indirectly rescued her and Gordon from a seemingly hopeless situation. Besides, there were millions of lives to be saved in California. And right now, Tin-Tin was an integral part of making sure that happened.

She'd just finished putting together a load of the powdered counter agent and was transporting it down to Thunderbird 3 silo on a hover stretcher. As the monorail she was riding in passed the Containment Units, a sudden feeling came over her. A terrible feeling. A feeling like...like...

"Oh, no," she whispered.

Her hand reached out and hit the monorail brake. Then she opened the doors. Stepping out onto the access tunnel platform, she blinked her eyes once...twice...then closed them completely. She could hear his voice in her mind...the voice of someone she knew she shouldn't trust, yet somehow...his words made her _want_ to trust him.

_I know where your father is, my niece._

She began walking toward Containment Unit 2.

_Come, my child. I will help you save him. Only I can find him. You know we share a powerful connection._

Half of her mind fought against the overwhelming urge she felt to go to him, this man of Darkness. But the other half wanted to find her father so badly, to ensure his well being. Logic failed her as a mist appeared before her eyes. Her breath came fast as she looked through a small window to the containment room. There, staring right back at her, were two eyes blacker than coal, two eyes that had inspired fear the world over, that had seen more death and destruction than any other in existence.

But Tin-Tin was not afraid. Her ambivalence toward this man that in reality she despised so greatly came not from her, but from the power he had over her. One phrase fed continuously into her mind.

_We'll find your father. We'll find your father. We'll find your father._

He was right. She had to release him. He shouldn't be locked up. Not here. Not now. Not when he could find Kyrano. Not when he and he alone could save him from Acronym's clutches. Tin-Tin raised her hand to the control panel on the door's left-hand side. Her fingers flew over the number pad as she keyed in the unlock code. There was a loud click, and the door swung open. A deep, evil, throaty laugh echoed in the silence of the tunnel.

The Hood was free.

07:59:58

07:59:59

08:00:00


	21. Hour TwentyOne

**Hour Twenty-One**

_The following takes place between 8:00 p.m. and 9:00 p.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

08:00:10

Scott landed Thunderbird 1 on Sydney Hospital's helipad and offloaded the Turners, thanking them profusely for their assistance and arranging transportation for them to return to the United States. He then gave Ned Cook instructions for locating appropriate telecast equipment before heading down into the hospital itself to meet with the police, who were already waiting in the top floor observation lounge, a recent addition Scott had noticed the last time Virgil had been brought here after a rescue.

"Hello, I'm Deputy Commissioner Murray Abrams," said a tall, redheaded man dressed in a navy blue suit. He reached out and shook Scott's hand. "This is Detective Anthony Field." Scott shook a slightly shorter brown-haired man's hand. "The Minister of Police requested our presence here to help you find your mate. Our city is proud to be of assistance to International Rescue...although not at all proud that one of yours has been snatched right from under our noses."

"You've searched the hospital already?"

"Yes. No sign of Mr. Kyrano, I'm afraid. We've got a twenty-mile radius 'round here blocked off. We believe we have the ambulance this Acronym stole in our sights."

"I'm Dr. Evan Page, I'm the Director of Sydney Hospital." Scott watched as a balding older gentleman approached and shook his offered hand. "I must apologize for what's happened here, Sir. I don't know how they got out of here without anyone noticing."

"Acronym is nothing if not sneaky and well-informed," Scott replied. He turned back to Mr. Abrams. "You say they're in pursuit of the ambulance now?" Abrams nodded. But before he could say anything else, the detective's CB radio crackled to life.

"Unit Twelve calling Mobile Control."

Scott managed a ghost of a smile at the use of those two words...words he had said more times than he could count.

"Come in, Unit Twelve."

"We've apprehended the suspect, Detective. The man he kidnapped is a bit lightheaded, but seems otherwise unharmed."

"They've _got_ him?" Scott bellowed.

"Get them down to the station right away. We'll meet you there." Detective Field turned to Scott. "Yes. They've got him."

"I love Australia," Scott said, a broad smile gracing his tired features.

All present smiled and nodded as the detective asked, "You coming along?"

"You _bet_ I am. I have a few choice words for that...sonofabitch."

08:11:23

The first thing the Hood did after being freed was make one well-placed vidphone call to New South Wales, Australia. He knew that his call would not go unnoticed, so he ordered his niece to take him to wherever International Rescue stored its weapons. And all in all, it didn't matter if these idiots _did_ come down to Thunderbird 2's hangar and catch him. After all, he now had two bargaining chips...Tin-Tin and, very soon, Acronym.

He wasn't counting on the stroke of good fortune about to come his way.

08:13:16

"I don't get it. Everyone's accounted for but Tin-Tin. I can't raise her."

"But why would she phone Australia?" Gordon asked.

"Don't know."

"To check up on her father?"

Jeff shook his head. "I can't see her doing it. She's been hell-bent on getting the UH-3 counter agent into Thunderbird 3. Why would she suddenly be down in Thunderbird 2 hangar?"

The coffee cup Gordon was lifting to his lips stopped halfway there. His amber eyes looked directly into his father's blue-gray ones. They spoke their next words in unison.

"The Hood."

Jeff jabbed a line to the lab open. "Brains! Penny! Make sure you're secure in there! We think the Hood's gotten loose again!"

"Oh, no! Tin-Tin!" Penny cried.

"Securing now!" Brains called out as he headed for the main entry.

"Base to Thunderbird 5!"

"Here, Father, what's wrong?"

Gordon was already taking the passenger elevator down to the hangar. He tapped his foot impatiently on the metal floor as he clutched a laser pistol he'd grabbed. "Goddammit, you bastard," he spat. "If I get a clear shot, you're goin' down."

"John, we think the Hood's loose on Base again. And we can't account for Tin-Tin."

"She doesn't have her watch, Dad, I can't locate her. What do you want me to do?"

"That remote for Braman...is it functioning?"

"Yeah, Dad, I've used it already today."

"Right. He should be done manufacturing the counter agent. Even if he's not, take control of him and get him down to Thunderbird 2 hangar. He's the only one of us not susceptible to those damn eyes. And try a thermal scan of the island."

"I don't know, Dad. From this distance..."

"Just try it, son. Just try it."

"F.A.B."

Jeff ran and grabbed a laser pistol for himself. By this time the elevator had returned to the hall just outside the Lounge, and he stepped inside. He only hoped Gordon wouldn't do anything rash before he could get there to help him.

08:19:53

"Island dead ahead," Virgil said to Alan as he banked for final approach.

"I don't like this," Alan said, coming to stand next to his brother. "John says all hell's broken loose down there."

"I know, Al, I know."

They flew gracefully across the water and over the outer edge of the runway. But the palm trees had not fallen away, which meant the giant machine wouldn't fit between them. Virgil had no choice but to land his ship on the portion of the tarmac that, during take-off, would rise upward to help Thunderbird 2 launch.

"Now I _know_ something's wrong." Virgil helped Alan down into the pod, where they found Grandma, Dr. Gray, Parker and a woozy Megan waiting for them. He then raised Thunderbird 2 until she stood one hundred twenty feet off the ground.

"Why did you stop us out here?" Ruth asked.

"Trouble, Grandma. You, Alan, Megan and Dr. Gray stay here. Parker, as Lady Penelope would say, get the Rolls Royce. We're going for a little drive."

"Yes, Sir," Parker replied with a smile as he unfastened the straps holding the car in place.

"I will _not_ stay here!" Ruth cried.

"Grandma, _please_! Alan and Megan, look at 'em! They _need_ you!"

Dr. Gray turned to Ruth. "He's right. If something's wrong, well, we can't just leave two invalids here alone to fend for themselves."

"I am _not_ an invalid!" Alan cried. But as everyone watched, he paled considerably.

"Al? You okay?"

"Uh...yeah, Virg...fine."

"You don't look fine."

Alan began to sweat, beads of liquid appearing on his forehead. Dr. Gray became alarmed, and went to his side. "You need to lie down."

"No! I need to help Dad!"

"Alan, do as Dr. Gray says."

"Virgil..." Alan said, swooning a bit as a wave of dizziness swept over him.

"Alan!" Ruth exclaimed, coming to his other side. She smoothed his hair as his breathing became labored. "Dr. Gray, help him!"

Virgil was very concerned for his brother, but he took advantage of his grandmother being distracted and hopped into the back seat of FAB One. Parker started the engine, and before anyone else knew what was happening, the car was racing toward the cliff wall.

"That grandson of mine sure is sneaky," Ruth observed as she watched them go.

Dr. Gray was supporting Alan almost entirely now. "No, he's smart. Now come on, let's get Alan onto something more comfortable than this hard metal floor."

Megan watched as the doctor carried Alan in his arms to the far end of the Pod, with Ruth following close behind. She turned to look at where the red taillights of the most shockingly pink thing she'd ever seen had come to a stop. "I wonder if Scott's here," she whispered, sinking into a nearby chair Ruth had brought out earlier. She winced as her body cried out in protest. "God, what a mess I am."

"And about to become _more_ of a mess!"

Megan jumped, but couldn't get herself to her feet. She peered into the darkness outside and her eyes widened as two figures appeared before her. One was a dark-haired woman about her age. The other was an older man with a bald head. He was holding a gun in one hand and the woman's arm with the other.

"Well, hello," he sneered, walking up the ramp and into the lit Pod. "I don't believe we have met."

"Who are you?" Megan asked as she began to shake. She wasn't sure why, but this man terrified her.

"Your worst nightmare."

08:26:02

Scott, the deputy commissioner and the detective arrived at the precinct only to find utter chaos. All three ran into the building, where they were greeted with what could only be described as a massacre. Policemen and women lay scattered throughout the large room that was the precinct's main hub. Fire fighters and medics scurried from body to body, but had thus far not found any survivors.

"Dear God," Abrams breathed.

Scott looked away from a redheaded woman's lifeless body. His eyes caught sight of something moving in the hall ahead of him. He drew his weapon and walked forward, but as he got closer he realized no weapon was needed.

"Kyrano!" The man fell into the wall, and Scott raced to his side. "Kyrano, it's me, it's Scott. Are you hurt?"

He looked up into cobalt blue eyes and smiled weakly. "No. I will recover. But Tin-Tin."

"What about her? She's safe, she's back on Base."

"No, Scott. She is _not_ safe."

"What are you talking about?" he asked as he supported the smaller man's weight.

"It is the Hood," Kyrano said, eyes filling with tears. "He has her again."

"It can't be. It can't be! Detective!"

"You found him!"

"Where's Acronym?"

"They found the two men who escorted them in here. One is dead, but the other was able to give us an idea of what happened. Ten armed men stormed the building; they're the ones who shot the place up. They took Acronym."

"But why did they leave Kyrano alive?"

The detective shook his head sadly. "I don't know. But so many of our own are dead."

"Detective, please, I need to get back to Thunderbird 1, and quickly."

The man nodded. "I'll take you back in the cruiser."

Scott helped Kyrano out to the car. "Scott, my daughter...if the Hood takes her..."

"Don't you worry. We're gonna stop that bastard once and for all," he said as they slid into the back seat of the car. "First him, and then I'll find Acronym. This is gonna end. And it's gonna end now."

08:35:45

"There's no one here, Father!" Gordon called out from the other end of the conveyer belt.

"No one here, either!"

Braman exited the Maintenance Bay and headed for the center of the hangar. "No one here," he said flatly. "Please instruct."

"John," Jeff said as he approached the live feed coming from Braman's chest, "what about that thermal scan?"

"It's hard to get it pinpointed so closely from up here, Dad, but I think I've got a good idea of where there are life signs." He looked down at a panel on the console in front of him. "I read two coming from south of your position."

"That'd be Penny and Brains."

"I can see you and Gordon here, too. Dad! There are two forms directly outside the hangar!"

Jeff nodded. He motioned to Gordon, who nodded as well. They headed for the smaller door leading out to the tarmac. John took control of Braman again and stood him directly in front of it. In his hands the robot held a laser rifle. John lifted it and took aim. "Okay, Dad. Go."

Jeff punched a code into the control panel on the wall. The small hangar door began to slide down into the ground. Jeff and Gordon raised their guns, ready to fire. But they weren't greeted with the Hood and Tin-Tin. They were greeted with...

"Parker!" Penny cried, racing forward to meet them.

For there, cannon peeking out from its grill, was none other than FAB One.

Brains approached a little more slowly, but he had a huge smile on his face. "Boy, a-am I glad they're here."

"So am I. How are ya, Brains?"

"Good, uh, Jeff. We got the powder finished and loaded onto Thunderbird 3. The, uh, the only problem is that, uh, on our way down, we found the load of powder that, uh, Tin-Tin was supposed to have taken."

"Did you see her?"

"No, Sir. No sign of her. A-And you were right about the Hood. The door to, uh, Containment Unit 2 was, uh, wide open."

Virgil winced as Parker helped him from the car. No one noticed the flap to Pod 5 closing in the distance. "Dad!" Virgil cried as soon as he was free from the Rolls Royce. "Gordon!"

Jeff hugged him, and then watched as the brothers embraced. "Where's Alan?" he asked, looking off in the distance at the great shadow near the far end of the runway.

"He's back in the pod, he's not doing too well. Dr. Gray and Grandma are looking after him."

"Virg?" Gordon asked as he pulled away from his brother.

"Yeah?"

"Why'd you close the Pod door?"

Virgil hopped on his good foot, turning around so he could take a look. "I didn't. Maybe Grandma thought it would be a good idea. When John told us what happened, we all got worried." He turned to face his father. "What's this about the Hood?"

"We had him locked up in Containment Unit 2, but he's escaped. And we can't find Tin-Tin."

Virgil, Gordon, Penny and Brains exchanged glances with Jeff before they all turned to face Thunderbird 2 again.

"Oh, God," Jeff breathed. He walked to the control panel and opened a line. "This is Base to Thunderbird 2. Base calling Thunderbird 2. Come in."

He received no response.

"Oh, Jeff, you don't think he's on board?" Penny asked as she and Parker approached him.

"Dad, if he is..."

"I know, Gordon, I know!" Jeff said. He turned back to the panel. "Control calling Thunderbird 2. Answer!"

"Well, well, well, Jeff Tracy. It seems Acronym did not kill you after all!"

"The Hood," Penny breathed.

Pain shot through Virgil as his leg began to object to his use of it in earnest. He fell back onto the hood of FAB One. Brains rushed to his side and saw blood seeping through his pant leg. "Virgil, w-we have to get you to the Ward!"

"No," Virgil ground out.

"What do you want, Hood?" Jeff growled.

"Oh, I have what I want, International Rescue. At last, Thunderbird 2 is mine."

"Over my dead body," Jeff replied, his voice barely a whisper.

"That can easily be arranged. One shot into that hangar from this magnificent ship's cannons, and you can say goodbye to this world."

Everyone just looked at each other.

"Of course, I think I would prefer to start with those on board."

Another voice cut through the line. "Thunderbird 1 to Base."

"Scott!" Jeff said, hope rising within him. "Scott, come in!"

"Father, I have Kyrano! He's weak, but unharmed. Acronym's gone!"

"What do you mean, Acronym's gone?"

"I don't know, a whole gang of men stormed the precinct, Dad, they killed almost every officer on duty! And they took Acronym!"

The Hood's voice came through on the first line. "I think I might begin with this lovely young lady who won't tell me her name. It seems you have a new one in the nest. Perhaps _she_ shall be the first to die."

"Father, what the--who the hell is that?"

"The Hood, Scott. He's got Tin-Tin and he's on board Thunderbird 2."

"Virgil..."

"No, Virgil and Parker are inside the hangar with me."

"Alan?"

"I'm afraid he's still on board. As are Mother, Dr. Gray and Dr. Crawford."

"What? Dad, I'm ten minutes out and I'm gunning it!"

"What're you gonna do, Scott, for Chrissakes?" Virgil asked, sweat beginning to run down his face. "You can't _fire_ on 'em!"

"I--I--"

"Or perhaps I shall begin the carnage with this older woman here. She is, I think, your mother, is she not, Jeff Tracy?"

Jeff paled considerably. He reopened the line to Thunderbird 2. "I'll ask you again. What do you want?"

"It is quite simple. I am a reasonable man. And this is only business. I want Thunderbird 2."

Virgil began to protest, but Jeff held up his hand to silence him. "And what do I get in return?"

Thunderbird 2 lowered over her pod. They could do nothing but stand and watch. Then the side hatch opened, and stairs folded out. Soon two figures emerged. They could hear one of them crying.

"Mother!" Jeff cried as he raced out the hangar door. But Thunderbird 2's automatic weapons fired in a straight line directly in front of him, stopping him in his tracks.

"I have given you a gift, Jeff Tracy," the Hood's voice boomed over the ship's external loudspeakers. "I will leave with Thunderbird 2, and you shall have...Acronym."

"Acronym? You have him?"

"Yes. My men were successful in their attempt to take him from those simpleminded police in Sydney."

"What about the others?"

"They will be released as soon as I have reached my destination."

"How do I know you'll keep your word?"

The Hood laughed as Dr. Gray and Ruth came running toward Jeff. "You don't. But if you or Thunderbird 1 tries to stop me, I will kill everyone on board. Including your youngest son."

08:54:30

"I can see the island," Scott said as he flew in from the side opposite the runway. "Kyrano, we've got to do something!"

"But what can we do?"

"Scott, this is your father."

"Dad, I'm almost there, what's goin' on?"

"Is Ned Cook with you?"

"Yes, Father, and we have the broadcasting equipment."

"Set down behind the mountain and have Kyrano get Ned hooked up in the Lounge."

"But Dad, what about the Hood?"

"Mother and Dr. Gray have been freed."

"That means he still has Al, Tin-Tin and...Meg."

"Yes."

"Dad..."

"Son, you get to Thunderbird 3 and get her in the air. Brains, you go with him. We need that counter agent in place. And pick John up from the station. You'll need his help."

"But Dad..."

"No, Scott. No buts. There are millions of lives to be saved. It's your responsibility to do that now."

"Yes, Father," Scott whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Virgil, Penny, Brains and Gordon all stared at Jeff. "Dad?" Gordon said. "What do we do?"

What _could_ they do? If he allowed the Hood to leave in Thunderbird 2, his son, Kyrano's daughter and one of their agents would surely die. And the Hood would have his hands on a significant piece of their technology. But he couldn't use weapons on them, or he'd kill them all himself. He looked at each expectant face and his heart sank. They were all waiting for him to come up with something, a plan, a way out of this, a way to save the lives of those they loved.

But Jefferson Tracy was out of ideas. And the clock was ticking.

08:59:58

08:59:59

09:00:00


	22. Hour TwentyTwo

**Hour Twenty-Two**

_The following takes place between 9:00 p.m. and 10:00 p.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

09:00:00

Scott landed Thunderbird 1 and headed for the house with Ned, Kyrano and the broadcasting equipment in tow. With every fiber of his being he wanted to run full-boar to the other side of the mountain and help his family get Alan, Tin-Tin and Megan back. But he knew his father was right. He had to get Thunderbird 3 into the air. Still and all, it took every ounce of willpower he had to sit down on the settee next to Brains, who'd been waiting for them in the Lounge when they arrived.

"You all right?" he asked the engineer. "You look a little pale."

"And you look like you have a headache."

"I do. Ned? Kyrano? Will you two be okay?"

Ned gave him the thumbs-up as he stood in awe of his surroundings. Kyrano simply nodded.

The settee moved downward, carrying the eldest Tracy son and the island's resident genius far below until it came to rest on a gantry. The gantry began moving them sideways and they passed through a long tunnel before finally emerging into Thunderbird 3's silo. Then the settee lifted and they rose upward into the space ship until the gantry came to rest in Thunderbird 3's Lounge, the magnetic seal locking their piece of floor into place.

"Take up launch positions," Scott said, rising to his feet and heading for the elevator.

"F.A.B.," Brains replied, moving to a nearby chair.

As the elevator rose, Scott's stomach dropped lower and lower until he was certain it had reached his feet. "Al," he whispered. "You should be here with me." Then his thoughts turned to Tin-Tin. So much had happened to her in the last twenty-one hours. Had she survived being kidnapped by Acronym only to die at the hands of their archenemy, the Hood? And Megan. A lump rose in his throat. He swallowed hard as the elevator deposited him onto the cockpit level.

Scott stepped out and seated himself in the pilot's chair. He ran through the systems check, but his mind was elsewhere. It was with Megan. Would he ever see her again? Would he ever see any of them again?

09:07:19

"Father! I've got it!"

"What, John?"

"Braman!"

"Braman?"

"It's dark outside, right?"

"Yes, of course it is. What of it?"

"If Braman closes his chest plate and hides my feed, he'll be camouflaged enough to where the Hood won't be able to see him coming. And with Thunderbird 3 launching, well, it'll create a diversion."

"But what can he do?" Virgil asked. He had now seated himself on the floor. His strength was waning along with his hope. "Any move he makes, the Hood will start killing..." He couldn't continue.

"Thunderbird 2's failsafe, Virgil."

Virgil's eyes opened wide. "Yes. Yes, that's it. That's it!"

"Failsafe?" Penny asked. "What on earth is that?"

"It's a way to kill Thunderbird 2's VTOL rockets, Penny," Jeff explained as a glimmer of hope began to shine through. "I get it and I like it. Now here's what we're going to do."

09:09:13

Scott frowned in consternation. He'd been just about to fire Thunderbird 3 up when his father had come on the line and told him to wait until Gordon gave him the word. He sat in his seat and fidgeted. What was his dad about to do?

"God_dammit_, I should be up there!" he cried, slamming his fist into the console.

09:10:42

"Well, Jeff Tracy? I have waited long enough. What is your answer?"

Jeff walked calmly over to the control panel and pressed a button. "If you want to make a deal with me, you'll have to do it face-to-face. Like a _real_ man."

Everyone held his or her breath as silence reigned. Finally the Hood's voice was heard. "Very well. I should like to stand face-to-face with you again, my enemy. Just to see the look in your eyes when you have to give me what I want."

Jeff's face twitched in anger.

"But no tricks! Or these three will _die_!"

"No tricks. Just you and me."

"Very well."

Penny laid a hand on Jeff's shoulder. He turned to face her and to everyone's surprise, gathered her in his arms. "If anything happens to me, Penny...take care of my boys."

Her eyes filled with tears. "Nothing will happen to you. You're Jeff Tracy."

He smiled and released her. "You always say that. Gordon, close the hangar door as soon as I'm out."

"Father!"

"Son, do it. If something goes wrong and he fires a missile in here, you, your brother and everyone else will die."

"Yes, Dad," Gordon replied, hanging his head.

"Parker, go get FAB One and bring her inside."

"Yes, Sir."

"Dr. Gray, you take care of Virgil. And thank you."

"You're welcome, Sir. I will."

"Dad, don't. Please don't."

Jeff knelt next to where Virgil was now mostly lying on the floor. "Don't worry. This will work. And if it doesn't...get up to the Lounge, go on the air with Ned Cook and tell the world who we are."

Virgil eyes darkened and he bit his lower lip. All he could do was nod.

"If I die, _you_ have to stop this. I'm counting on you."

"I will, Dad. You have my word."

Jeff nodded and rose to his feet. FAB One was now inside the hangar. Everyone gathered in front of the small door and watched as he stepped out onto the tarmac. Jeff turned and nodded to Gordon. He heard soft crying from Penelope as the door began to move upward, closing him off from any modicum of safety.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to face Thunderbird 2. He heard soft scuffling off to his left. "Okay, Braman. Let's hope you get this right. Here goes."

09:16:11

Michael Canton was frightened. He had never been this frightened in his entire life. The men who had taken him from the precinct in Sydney had been interrogating him mercilessly since their arrival at what appeared to be an abandoned factory. All but one had left him in a small room. That man glowered at him, a smirk upon his face.

"What are you going to do to me?" Canton asked, his voice quivering.

"Since you'll only tell us half of what we want to know, we're going to have some fun. The others will return shortly."

Michael recoiled against the wall as though he'd been hit. They had asked him to reveal everything he knew about International Rescue, as well as why he'd gone after them to begin with. He'd complied with the latter request, but refused to reveal his extensive knowledge about Jeff Tracy's organization. In his mind, that was his hard-earned trophy, and he wasn't about to give it away so easily.

He'd told them that going after International Rescue had just been a smoke screen. His true agenda involved destroying every major city in the world until Earth caved in and accepted him as their leader. He'd been planning this for so many years it had become the focus of his entire life. Along the way, he had also been tracking Jefferson Tracy's movements, and had stumbled upon the fact that his boyhood enemy was none other than the head of International Rescue.

Using them had been a remarkable stroke of genius, he thought; a way to turn public opinion against them, and then sweep in at the last minute to become the hero of the world. And if the world refused to accept him as their leader, he would continue killing people until either they _did_ accept him, or until there were so few humans left it wouldn't matter. The combined pleasure of seeing the gallant Tracys brought to their knees and gaining power over the entire planet had been almost more than he could bear.

But now it was all crashing down around him. Sure, his men had their orders, and they would destroy Southern California whether or not they heard a broadcast by International Rescue that told the world who they really were. But after that...what if these men began to torture him? What if he didn't get out of this alive?

For all his machismo and talk, without his gadgets and gismos, without his inventions and the thugs on his payroll, Michael Canton was, at his very core, a coward. As the man watching him opened the door and stuck his head out into the hall, Canton began to shake uncontrollably. He reached down and plucked something from his left sock. It was a cyanide capsule.

He would rather die than live to see his dream crumble around him. He would rather die than see Jeff Tracy triumph. He would rather die...than fail.

09:21:57

Jeff approached Thunderbird 2 with trepidation. His mouth had gone dry and his shoulder hurt so badly the pain was almost blinding. But he walked on; fully aware that at any moment the Hood might decide to just kill him and be done with it. Suddenly he saw movement in his peripheral and shifted his eyes to his left. There, to the right of Thunderbird 2, stood Braman. He heard a panel clink open and smiled to himself. It would work. It _had_ to. He just had to keep the Hood distracted long enough.

The great ship's side hatch opened once more. Two figures stumbled down the steps, a third coming close behind. The light from inside the vehicle revealed the figures to be Alan, Megan and the Hood. Tin-Tin was nowhere to be seen. Jeff stopped walking and tried to swallow as Alan staggered ahead of the villain and Megan cried out with nearly every step she took. The Hood held a gun in each hand, keeping his prisoners in front of him at all times as he neared Jeff's position.

"You coward!" Jeff spat. "I thought we said man-to-man."

"A little insurance. You would like nothing better than to kill me where I stand."

"Well, at least you've got _that_ right."

Alan began to lose his balance and fall. Pure parental instinct forced Jeff to lunge forward in an attempt to help him, but the Hood waved one of the guns at him and said, "Ah-ah-ah!" He then grabbed the back of Alan's uniform and hauled him to his feet.

"You _bastard_! Let them go, can't you see they're injured?"

"Tell me what I want to hear and I'll consider it."

"What do you want to hear?" Jeff asked, stalling for time.

"Give me the plans to the other Thunderbirds and I'll give you Acronym."

"And what about Tin-Tin?"

"We are not here to discuss my niece! We are here to discuss a deal."

"Tin-Tin _is_ part of that deal!"

"No she is _not_!"

"You listen to me, you sonofabitch. I get Tin-Tin, Alan _and_ Megan, or you get _nothing_!"

"Foolish words when I'm the one holding all the cards."

Jeff noticed Braman out the corner of his eye. The robot was slowly approaching Thunderbird 2's nose, and the Hood wasn't any the wiser. Or so he thought.

Having sensed Jeff's thoughts, the Hood whirled on the robot, releasing his hold on Megan and Alan. Jeff grabbed one of them in each arm as they fell forward, and began dragging them back along the tarmac. He only hoped Braman and the upcoming surprise could keep the Hood busy long enough for him to get them to safety. He lifted his wrist, outfitted with a new watch communicator, to his face. "Now, Gordon! Tell Scott to go _now_!"

Moments later, Jeff heard Thunderbird 3's rockets fire. He glanced up and saw the Hood turn toward the roundhouse, startled by the sound. Braman's chest plate slid down, and Jeff knew John was taking control of the robot. Thunderbird 3 roared up through the center of the roundhouse, rockets flaring. The Hood didn't even know what hit him as Braman's metal arm came down on the back of his head. He sank to the tarmac in a heap, both pistols clattering to the concrete.

"John! Get Tin-Tin! She's inside Thunderbird 2!" Jeff raised the watch to his face again. "Gordon! Open the hangar door!"

The entire cliff face began rumbling downward, sinking into the slot directly beneath it. Then a metal drawbridge opened, traversing the gap left by the false front's retreat. Gordon and Penny rushed out and half-carried, half-dragged Megan and Alan into the hangar. Dr. Gray was upon them immediately as Jeff ran back toward Thunderbird 2. "Parker! Help me out here!"

"Yes, Sir!" Parker called out as he raced after him.

Braman appeared at the top of Thunderbird 2's steps just as Jeff and Parker reached the bottom of them. In his arms he held Tin-Tin, who was unconscious. "Parker, take her into the hangar," Jeff said quietly. Tin-Tin's body covered Braman's chest, but Jeff knew his son was still there by the glow that emitted from it. "Thank you, John. You did it."

"Yeah, but now I have to undo it so you can get 2 back into her hangar."

Jeff watched Parker gently take Tin-Tin from the robot and head back along the runway, then turned back to John's live feed. "Well, it's a quick fix, and besides, it would've saved our asses if this hadn't worked. Have at it, son. I'm gonna take care of the Hood."

09:36:04

Scott and Brains listened as Ruth explained what had happened, and that everyone was now safe. They both heaved huge sighs of relief. Once the conversation was through, Brains decided to begin explaining to Scott how the distribution of the UH-3 counter agent would take place. They patched John in from Thunderbird 5 and the three discussed logistics.

"You think we'll make it in time?" John asked at one point.

Scott looked him straight in the eye. "We've got to, Johnny. We've just _got_ to."

09:39:08

Kyrano knew his daughter was safe. He'd been watching from the cliff house patio as the incident had played out. Now he moved back into the cliff house proper and seated himself upon the floor. Crossing his legs and flattening the palms of his hands together in front of him, he closed his eyes and concentrated. Concentrated hard.

At last he found his quarry. He felt great fear. Fear and the knowledge that a life was about to end. He probed the man's mind, probed deeply into it. He _had_ to know what had been behind Michael Canton's wish to destroy International Rescue. Jeff and Ruth, it seemed, had understood. But Kyrano had not. And above all, he _needed_ to understand. That was just part of who he was.

But what he discovered surprised him more than anything. International Rescue was just a red herring...something of a diversion from Canton's true intentions. Then Kyrano felt a stab of pain through his head and gasped as his eyes flew open. He knew what had happened. He knew it as surely as he knew his own name. Acronym had ingested poison.

Michael Canton...was dead.

09:43:51

Jeff entered the Lounge, where Ned Cook was waiting impatiently. "Ned, are you set up?"

"Yes, Mr. Tracy. What the hell is going on around here?"

"Never mind, it's a long story. Ned, I want you to patch me into NTBS."

"What?" Ned asked, crossing the room to where Jeff had just seated himself behind his desk. "_That's_ why you wanted this equipment here? You're gonna reveal your identity. Aren't you?"

"Well, what did you think it was for?"

"I don't..." Ned's voice trailed off. Deep down, of course he'd known. He just hadn't wanted to admit it to himself. Hadn't wanted to admit the time would actually come.

"Ned, I have to. The Hood may be down, and his men may have Acronym, but I figure whoever's controlling the UH-3 bombs is gonna drop 'em unless I go on the air."

"But you have those shields in place, and the counter agent!"

"That doesn't mean people won't die," Jeff said. "Hook us up, Ned."

09:45:18

Ruth, Penelope and Dr. Gray managed to get Virgil, Alan, Megan and Tin-Tin to Tracy Island's Hospital Ward. Penny and Ruth did what they could, but it was mostly Dr. Gray who attended to each patient's needs. Tin-Tin was unconscious, but Dr. Gray's scans of her brain and body turned up nothing untoward.

Next he moved to Alan, who was sweating profusely and seemed to be delirious. The doctor administered several drugs and was able to sedate him enough so that he fell asleep. He redressed Alan's burns with clean bandages and moved on.

Dr. Gray had to sedate Virgil as well. His leg wound had opened nearly 1/8 of the way. After knocking him out, he spent time resealing the ripped area and replacing the torn syntheskin. Once that was accomplished he moved on to Megan, who was in bad shape.

Her broken ankle, though well held in place by a contraption Gray had found on Thunderbird 2, had taken an awful beating out there on the tarmac as the Hood had forced her to walk. He was certain it was even worse than before, and decided after viewing some X-rays that immediate surgery was the only option. He recruited Ruth and Penelope as quasi-nurses, and set about getting ready to fix Megan up.

"I'm so glad you're here," Ruth said as she and Penny scrubbed their hands.

"Yes, I think we're all grateful for your presence," Penelope chimed in.

"Well, I'm glad to be here," Gray replied. "I just hope you two don't get squeamish over blood."

"We won't," Ruth replied. "Bet on it."

Dr. Gray smiled. "Odds?"

Penelope smiled. "When it comes to helping someone, Doctor, the odds are 100 in our favor."

"Then I'm glad I'm on your side."

"You'd better be," Ruth admonished, waving a rubber glove in his direction. "You've never seen me royally pissed off."

None of them had any idea what was happening in the Lounge.

09:50:25

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Ned Cook coming to you live from a secret location. A secret location that will soon be secret no more."

Jeff's heart was heavy as he watched Ned speak into the vid camera. He was standing in front of a geisha statue in the other corner of the Lounge as he gave his live report. Jeff closed his eyes, willing the nausea he felt to leave him. He had to do it. It was right. It was the right thing to do. He just kept telling himself that over and over and over again. His family might be safe, but all those people in Southern California and in New York City, Canton's next target...and what had happened in D.C. and Arlington. And Fiji. _It has to end,_ he thought, reopening his eyes. _I'm sorry, Lucy._

"I have the sad task today of bringing to you live the head of the International Rescue organization. An organization that's been put under fire by a madman, a madman bent on their destruction, and on the deaths of innocent people. This is a noble organization, Ladies and Gentlemen. They have dedicated their lives to saving mankind, but because of a sick, sick man, lives have been lost today, and all in the name of vengeance. This reporter has seen with his own eyes how hard International Rescue has worked throughout the day to save as many lives as they could, even in the midst of this impossible situation. And now they are about to make the ultimate sacrifice to save more lives in ten minutes than they could ever hope to in a lifetime of rescues."

Ned looked away from the camera to where Jeff sat behind his desk. Tears sprang to his eyes as Jeff bowed his head and nodded. The reporter turned back to face the camera, tears spilling over onto his cheeks.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I will be honest with you. I don't want to do this. It's not right, or fair! It is not International Rescue's fault that Acronym has caused so much grief among you! They have given and given to us for ten years, and asked _nothing_ in return! They don't accept payment, they don't accept anything! And now...now I'm forced to reveal their identities to you all. Forced to assist them in making this horrible sacrifice, all because of someone who wanted to turn you against them. To turn your minds away from the good they've done and make you think all of this is their doing."

Jeff couldn't keep tears from stinging his eyes as he stared at Ned Cook. He didn't want to do this. God, he didn't want to do this. It was all going. Everything. Just going.

"In a few short minutes, it's all going to be over," Ned continued. "Once they're unmasked, they'll never be able to operate as International Rescue again. Do you know what that means? Whenever a building's on fire and you're trapped in the elevator, there will be no one to save you! Whenever a mine caves in, there will be no one to tunnel beneath the earth and pull you out! And when a plane's about to crash? Who will save you from certain death now? Or that cruise you're planning on taking...what if the ship begins to sink? Do you _realize_ what the world is about to lose?"

Ned was practically yelling now, he was so worked up. It was all Jeff could do not to lose his cool and join him up there in the rafters.

09:57:56

"No," John breathed, staring at Ned's face in his monitor. "It can't be. It just can't be. Oh, God. Father."

09:58:26

"Brains..."

"I-I know, Scott. I know," Brains replied, wiping tears from his eyes. They were listening to the broadcast, too.

"He can't do it. He just _can't_."

"I-I think he feels there's no o-other option, uh, Scott."

"I know, but...God...Dad..."

09:58:43

Gordon stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the Lounge. He could barely think or breathe. He just stared at his father, who looked like such a broken man that he could hardly stand it.

_This can't be happening._

09:59:03

Ned took a few deep breaths and wiped the tears from his cheeks.

"I can't believe you all started calling for the tarring and feathering of these self-sacrificing men and women. I can't _believe_ you would be that gullible! And for those of you who've continued to support International Rescue, on their behalf, I thank you. As I once thanked them from the bottom of my heart for risking their lives for me and my cameraman Joe, I thank them now again. And I say I'm sorry. On behalf of the world, I am truly sorry. And now..."

Ned faltered. He looked over to Jeff again, then back at the camera. "Now...Ladies and Gentlemen...I give you...the head of International Rescue."

09:59:58

09:59:59

10:00:00


	23. Hour TwentyThree

**Hour Twenty-Three**

_The following takes place between 10:00 p.m. and 11:00 p.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

10:00:01

Ned swung the camera around. In doing so, it lost focus. He stopped and looked through the view piece only to find that Jeff Tracy looked like nothing more than a smattered blob against an even less clear background. His hand reached out to touch the focusing controls.

"NO!" came a voice from across the room. "NO! STOP! WAIT!"

Jeff leapt out of his chair and ran across the Lounge. "Kyrano!"

Kyrano grasped Jeff's arms tightly. He was out of breath and wheezing horribly as his bruised heart muscle raced. Gordon was at their side in an instant. "Stop...don't tell...don't...need...to..." he gasped, leaning heavily upon his friend.

"Kyrano, what are you talking about?"

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please wait for a moment," Ned said into the still-unfocused camera.

"Acronym..." Kyrano breathed. "Dead..."

"What? Acronym's dead?"

No longer able to speak, Kyrano just nodded before completely losing his internal battle and going limp in Jeff's arms.

"Kyrano!" Jeff and Gordon cried. Jeff lifted the man into his arms. "Ned, stop transmission!"

Ned smiled. He smiled broadly. "Ladies and Gentlemen, there has been a change of plans. You will _not_ be meeting the head of International Rescue today." With that, he turned the camera off. He was quite sure there'd be hell to pay back at NTBS after this was all over, but suddenly Ned Cook didn't care. He rushed to where Jeff stood holding Kyrano. "Is he okay?"

"I hope so. I'll have to get him to the Hospital Ward. Listen, Ned, everything you said..."

Ned held up a hand and shook his head. "Don't say another word. Everything I said was true, and it's how I feel." He turned to face Gordon as Jeff left the room with all speed. "You're Gordon, right?" Gordon nodded and smiled, holding his hand out. Ned shook it vigorously. "I never got to thank you personally for saving my life all those years ago."

"That's what we do," Gordon replied. "Don't mention it."

Ned could only watch as Gordon jogged after his father. "Unbelievable," he whispered. "Thank God Kyrano came in when he did." Ned dropped into a nearby chair. "Thank God."

10:08:49

John sank back into his chair. He was drained. Completely drained. His father had been on the verge of telling the world who they were, of ending it all. He wasn't quite sure what had stopped him, but he was thankful something had. And now, Scott and Brains would be arriving in less than half-an-hour. The danger of International Rescue being torn asunder was gone for the moment. But the danger to the people of Southern California hadn't even begun.

10:10:15

Brains couldn't help himself. When Ned said the world wouldn't be meeting the head of International Rescue today, he hugged Scott fiercely. He was mildly surprised to feel him returning the gesture. "Gordon Tracy to Thunderbird 3."

Scott pulled away from Brains and hit the com channel. "Thunderbird 3 here."

"Did you hear what happened?"

"Not all of it. Only that Dad was saved from having to reveal our identities."

"Yeah, Kyrano came flying into the room. He said Acronym's dead."

"Dead?" Brains and Scott repeated.

"Dead. That's what he said. Then he collapsed. We're in the Hospital Ward now."

"How's everybody else?"

"Well, Tin-Tin looks like she's stirring a little. Virg and Al are knocked out. And Dr. Gray's in the operating room with Penny and Grandma. It looks like they're working on Dr. Crawford."

"Dr. Crawford?" Scott said, frowning. "What are they doing?"

"Can't tell for certain, Scott, but it looks like they've got her foot open."

"Her ankle. Her ankle was broken," Scott said. "Gordo, let Dad know we'll be arriving to pick John up in eight minutes."

"F.A.B.," Gordon replied. "And Scott?

"Yeah?"

"You and John and Brains...be careful. I've got a bad feeling about what you guys are doing."

Scott smiled. "You're starting to sound like Dad."

Gordon rolled his eyes. "Oh, God, a fate worse than death."

"I heard that!" Jeff said from across the room.

Brains, Scott and Gordon chuckled as Scott said, "Thunderbird 3 out."

10:14:26

The Hood awoke with a miserable headache. He'd been hit on the head so many times in the last few hours it was a wonder he was able to wake up at all. His anger grew has he remembered how he'd had Thunderbird 2 literally in the palm of his hand. And then he'd had to let that fool Jeff Tracy goad him into leaving its confines. Now here he was in a dark, dark place. Somewhere so dark he could see nothing at all.

"Where am I?" he growled. His voice filled the space he was in. It was only when he tried to move his arms and legs that he realized just how tight that space was. For his prison could only be described as a capsule. A metal capsule. He was lying inside what he presumed to be something like a torpedo tube. He couldn't raise his head more than eight or ten inches off the bottom of it.

"Very clever, International Rescue," he ground out. "Now to find someone to help me."

10:17:16

Ned paced the Lounge floor. He felt so useless right now, and had no idea where this Hospital Ward was that Jeff had spoken off. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a walking hunk of metal entered the room. In its chest, he could see John's face, a face he'd only seen twice before. He backed away as the robot approached him.

"Don't worry Ned," John said, trying to keep from laughing. "Braman's harmless."

"Braman? It has a name?"

"Yes, he does."

"He?"

"Yes. He."

"Ah," Ned replied. He wasn't altogether sure about this thing John was referring to with a human pronoun.

"Listen, Dad wanted me to ask if you could find out how the members of International Rescuees are doing. Thunderbird 3's on its way with the counter agent."

"Oh, so _that_ was the deafening roar I heard earlier."

"Yep."

"Sure, I can get a report on their progress. Um, how do I get a line out?"

Braman walked over to the vidphone behind Jeff's desk. "Right here," came John's voice.

Ned approached cautiously. Braman turned so John could see him, and John laughed out loud. "Okay, okay, I'll back off. I have to get Braman back to the Hospital Ward anyway."

"Say, how do I let you know what goes on in California after you leave?"

"You see that button marked H on the panel to the right of the vidphone?"

"Yes."

"That's a line into the ward. Just press it and someone will answer."

"Okay." Ned watched as Braman walked out of the room. "Jesus Christ, they even have mechanical rescuers," he said as he dialed the number for IRee base. "What's next?"

10:20:39

John watched the approach of Thunderbird 3 on one monitor while he listened to the chaos breaking out on television stations all over the world. Phil Epstein was having a fit, while live feeds from different locations around the globe came through with one resounding theme: public opinion had changed thanks to Ned Cook's broadcast. John was grinning from ear-to-ear. Now all they had to do was pull off the biggest rescue of their lives.

"Okay, Thunderbird 3, I'm ready for you."

"F.A.B., John. Extend docking tube."

"Docking tube extended."

"You know, no matter how many times I hear you say that, it never fails to strike me as just being plain _wrong_."

John laughed. "Just slip her in tight, Scotty, and watch the tip."

Scott groaned. "John, you're completely hopeless."

"Now that's the pot calling the kettle black. I've heard you and Virg when you're doing a mid-air refuel between 1 and 2."

Scott had the good sense to turn an appropriate shade of pink as he fired retros. John just laughed some more as his brother maneuvered the rocket's long nose into the docking bay. "_Yes_!" he cried as it clicked into place.

"John..."

"Sorry. I couldn't help myself."

"All right, we don't have time to come on board. Set auto-relay and get over here."

"F.A.B."

John switched on the auto-relay and walked to the round door. It slid open, and he stepped into a long tunnel. He had with him his usual traveling bag as he walked quickly through to the airlock and stepped inside. One door swished closed behind him and he waited as Thunderbird 5 did a check to ensure the connection between it and Thunderbird 3 was airtight. Then the door in front of him opened, and he found himself facing his older brother at last.

They hugged and Scott said, "You're the only one of us who looks halfway decent."

"Thanks a lot, you just jinxed me," John replied as he pulled away. "I'll head down to the Lounge and stow my stuff."

"F.A.B. Bring Brains back up with you. I'm gonna head for the skies above California."

John nodded as he entered the elevator. He waited as it descended, then opened onto the Lounge area. Brains was kneeling next to a funny contraption that surrounded the square where the settee usually was. But the settee had been removed and pushed to the side, leaving only empty space.

"Brains," John said, stepping out of the elevator.

The engineer came to his feet and smiled. "John." He held out his hand, which John began to shake, then was surprised when he was pulled into a hug.

"Boy, am I glad you're okay," John said.

"Me too. Uh, thanks, John. I hear you saved my life."

"Naw," John replied as he pulled away. "Braman did all the work. I just yelled at him."

Brains chuckled.

"What is that thing?" John asked, nodding toward the circular apparatus on the floor. "Powder storage?"

He nodded. "Yes, the, uh, UH-3 counter agent is stored in there. Once we, uh, get into position, one o-of us will, uh, have to be just below Thunderbird 3's tail with the diffuser I put together, while the other releases the powder."

"Lemme guess who gets outdoor duty."

"Well, uh, it's probably up to you a-and Scott to decide that."

John thought for a moment. "I think Scott should handle flying Thunderbird 3. After all, I'm in better shape than he is and can probably handle things out there much more easily. He looks like he's been through the wringer."

"Oh, he has."

"You don't look much better, Brains."

"I-I'm fine, John. I-I'm a lot tougher than I look."

"I guess you are. Come on, Scott wants us back up in the cockpit."

"All right. I guess everything's, uh, ready to go down here."

As they entered the small elevator, John asked, "You really think this'll work, Brains?"

"Uh...well...keep your fingers crossed."

"That's not the answer I was hoping for."

10:33:14

Ruth came out of the operating room to give the others an update. But first, she hugged her son so hard Jeff was amazed at the strength she still seemed to have. "How's it going in there, Mother?"

"Oh, they're doing okay. Dr. Gray's just finished inserting rods and pins into Megan's foot. She'll be hobbling for a while, but she'll heal." Ruth's eyes wandered and she saw Kyrano lying pale and unconscious on the bed next to Tin-Tin's. "Kyrano!" she gasped, rushing to his side. "Jeff, what happened?"

"He collapsed. I don't know where he was or what happened, but he came running full boar into the Lounge just as we...as I..."

"Jeff?"

"I was on the verge of telling the world who we are."

"No."

Jeff nodded. "But Kyrano stopped me at the last minute. Somehow he found out Canton's dead."

"He is?"

"That's what Kyrano said just before he lost consciousness."

"I've got to get Dr. Gray out here. His vitals are awful weak."

"I know. How close is he to finishing up on Megan?"

"Pretty close, I think. I'll tell him to hurry."

Ruth disappeared back into the OR as Gordon frowned. He walked slowly to Tin-Tin's bedside, and reached out to touch her. His hand rested on her arm and he closed his eyes. Jeff checked Alan and Virgil's life monitors, and then turned to watch Gordon, wondering what he was doing.

Gordon could hear them. In his mind, he could hear them.

10:39:04

Braman peeked through the door to one of the containment units. John had given him specific instructions before leaving Thunderbird 5 to check on the Hood and then proceed to the Hospital Ward. Not only was the Hood lying within the empty torpedo tube, he was also inside Containment Unit 2 again. But this time Jeff had entered a high-level code known only to him and Scott. Even if the Hood managed to get out of the tube and con someone into trying to release him, they'd never be able to do so without that code.

Satisfied that their prisoner was staying put, Braman boarded the monorail. His mind worked through a multitude of equations and problems, events and timelines. It was only as the monorail came to a stop at its destination that he came to one particular idea that caused his inner alarm to go off.

"The diffuser," he intoned as he headed for the Hospital Ward. "The diffuser."

10:44:14

The Hood had sensed a presence nearby, but hadn't been able to locate a mind to go with it. He reached out beyond the confines of his makeshift prison and found his half-brother and niece together in the Great Void. Both were unconscious here, and would be of no use to him. He discarded that contact and decided the best course of action was to try and manipulate the capsule's sealing mechanism. If he was right about what exactly it was, he should be able to unlock it with his mind. It would take nearly every ounce of power he had, and in his weakened condition, he knew it was a long shot. But he had to try. If for no other reason than to put a stop to Jeff Tracy once and for all.

10:48:38

_Tin-Tin? _

_Gordon? _

_Kyrano? _

_Yes, Gordon. We are here. _

_Where are you? _

_We are in the Great Void. Gordon, quickly, I must explain to you about Acronym. I haven't much time left._

Gordon heard Tin-Tin begin to cry. He couldn't see them, he could only hear them.

_What do you mean you haven't much time left? What are you talking about? _

_My heart is failing. The strain of finding Michael Canton's mind and running from the Cliff House to the Lounge to tell your father has been too much for it, I'm afraid. _

_No! Kyrano, you're **not** going to die! Father won't let you!_

Tin-Tin's crying moved to all-out sobbing.

_Listen to me, Gordon. Listen to what I must tell you. It is important for the world to know._

10:50:52

Jeff watched in fascination as Gordon's lips moved but no sound emerged. He had an idea that his son was somehow communicating with Tin-Tin, Kyrano or both and was amazed. He had no idea Gordon had those capabilities and wondered how he'd come to learn of them.

Jeff grew alarmed as one of the indicators above Kyrano's head bleeped a warning. The man's heart rate was decreasing and his breathing had become shallow and forced. He looked through the window of the operating room and saw that Dr. Gray was closing up Megan's foot with a laser. Then he went to the bed that held his friend.

"Kyrano," he whispered, grabbing his hand and holding it tightly.

10:53:19

"This is Braman calling Thunderbird 3."

"We're here, Braman."

"Scott. There is potential difficulty with the diffuser."

"Difficulty?" Brains asked. "What difficulty?"

"There is a six.point.three percent probability that the suspension apparatus will not withstand the pressure caused by Earth's gravitational field. If it becomes dislodged it will not properly spread the UH-3 counter agent throughout the atmosphere and there is a fifteen.point.three percent chance it will pull Thunderbird 3 off balance."

"Brains, he worries too much."

"He can't worry, John," Scott said. "He's a robot."

"Braman," Brains said, "uh, don't worry. It'll be all right. Six.point.three is an a-awfully slim chance. We'll, uh, just be careful."

Scott cut the channel and turned to face their engineer. "Brains? Is this really something that could happen?"

"Uh, well, yes, I-I suppose it is."

"Then you were right. We will have to be careful."

"Yeah, and don't forget who's gonna be hangin' alongside that thing," John said. Outside he projected joviality. Inside, he was just as worried as Braman had sounded.

10:57:05

_So you're saying it wasn't about going after Dad at all? _

_That is correct, Gordon. You must ensure the world is told the truth. You must. _

_Kyrano, you're going to make it through this. _

_Father, Gordon is right. We will share our life force with you. You will survive. _

_Do not, my child. Please. And do not trouble yourself so about my passing. I will always be here for you in this place._

Tin-Tin began to cry again. _Father, no! I won't let you go! _

_Kyrano!_ Gordon could feel the older man's mind slipping away. _Kyrano, no! **No!**_

Jeff looked up in horror as the warning bleeps coming from the monitor turned into one steady tone. His attention was ripped from that to Tin-Tin, who suddenly sat bolt upright in bed and screamed, "_Nooooooo_!"

10:59:58

10:59:59

11:00:00


	24. Hour TwentyFour

**Hour Twenty-Four**

_The following takes place between 11:00 p.m. and 12:00 a.m. on the day Washington, D.C. was destroyed._

11:00:03

"Kyrano!" Jeff roared. "_Dr. Gray_!"

He bent down and began performing CPR on his friend, puffing air into his mouth, pumping his chest with his hands. Gordon's eyes snapped open as Tin-Tin grabbed hold of him and pulled herself off the bed, then pushed him aside as she reached for her father. Gordon grabbed her arms, hauling her away as she cried and screamed in her native Bahasa Melayu.

"Ayah! _Ayah_! Adalah tercantum! Jangan cuti! _Bukan_! _Ayah_!"

Dr. Gray burst into the room, followed by Penelope and Ruth. He came 'round to the other side of the bed from Jeff and shined a pen light into Kyrano's eyes. There was no response, his pupils did not dilate. Braman approached and stood at the end of the bed, oblivious to Penny, Ruth and Gordon, who were trying valiantly to keep Tin-Tin as far away as possible.

"I need a defibrillator, do you have one?" Dr. Gray yelled.

"Yes..." Jeff said between puffs. "Braman, get it!"

"There is a ninety-nine.point.seven-eight percent chance that the atrial defibrillator will not restart his weakened heart."

Jeff and Dr. Gray stopped all movement and stared at the machine. Jeff became livid. "I don't give a rat's ass about percentages, godammit! Get it _now_!"

Tin-Tin had given up fighting and sank to the floor with Penelope, tears streaming down both their faces. Gordon ran into the adjacent room and grabbed the ADF, returning to Dr. Gray with lightning speed. Braman inched closer to the head of the bed. "I can save him."

"How, by standing there and doing _nothing_?" Dr. Gray retorted.

"You must not waste time with the atrial defibrillator. His brain requires direct stimulation. I can provide the charge he needs in the most effective manner possible. The electrodes of the atrial defibrillator will destroy the damaged tissue of his heart. He will not survive."

Jeff opened his mouth and closed it again, his eyes wide. Sure, Braman had saved Brains' life, and been instrumental in saving his own. But could he trust the mechanical man to save Kyrano's by sticking something into his _brain_?

"He's right," Dr. Gray said quietly as he scanned Kyrano's chest with a portable MRI. "If I apply those patches directly to this man's chest, it won't do any good. And if I open him up and directly stimulate his heart, it'll tear the muscle apart. It's just too damaged."

Jeff looked at the doctor, then back at Braman. "What do you need to do?"

11:05:26

Ned was satisfied his Rescuees were doing their jobs. They all had received the Invisi-Shield devices and were nearly finished setting them up throughout Southern California. His finger reached for the button marked with an H, when suddenly he stiffened. "What the hell--?" he whispered.

And then his mind went blank.

11:06:16

"I-I think the modifications I've, uh, made to the diffuser will o-offset the possibility of Earth's gravity...what the _hell_ is _that_?"

Scott and John turned to look at the radar screen mounted on the wall next to the elevator. Three objects had come into range of their sensors, flying in formation.

"My God. They're heading the same place we are," John whispered.

"Those must be the craft that are going to drop the UH-3 bombs!"

"They're moving into position," Brains breathed.

"We can't be too late. We just _can't_ be."

"No, John. We _won't_ be. They won't drop the bombs until just before midnight," Scott said. "By that time, our counter agent will already be in the atmosphere."

"But we have no defense against them. What if they attack?" John asked.

"Then we'll knock 'em outta the sky with our bare hands," Scott replied.

And from his tone of voice, they knew he meant it.

11:08:10

Ned emerged from the elevator into Thunderbird 2's hangar. The one controlling his mind was surprised to find the great ship backed into position within instead of sitting out on the tarmac. But it didn't matter. It made his pawn's job that much easier. An evil laugh echoed inside Ned's mind. "Soon, reporter, soon I will be free. And then...we shall kill Jeff Tracy together."

A tear trickled down Ned Cook's cheek.

11:09:32

Jeff watched as Dr. Gray shaved a bit of hair from Kyrano's temple. His stoic face belied none of the turmoil Jeff Tracy was feeling inside. Precious seconds were slipping away. Even if Braman was successful in bringing Kyrano back, would he be the man he had always been? Deprived of oxygen for so long, could his mind survive? Or would the charge Braman was about to impart not give them the chance to find out?

Braman moved in as the doctor attached clamps to each side of Kyrano's head to hold it steady, then backed out of the way. Everyone held his or her breath as the end of Braman's index finger opened, and a thin needle emerged. He reached down, poking the needle into the flesh of Kyrano's temple. He turned to look at Jeff. "Tell Brains...I said goodbye."

"What?" Gordon said from the foot of the bed. "What do you mean goodbye?"

But Braman did not respond. He faced his patient, extended the needle to edge of Kyrano's skull, and then began rotating it to cut through the bone. Everyone heard it whirring, and then the sound stopped. They next heard a soft click, and Kyrano's body twitched. When Dr. Gray looked at the monitors, he was astonished to see the brain wave line begin to move. There was another click and a zapping sound, and the line moved again.

"It's not working," Jeff said. "It moves, but then it falls flat again."

Another click. And another zap. Another click. And another zap.

There was one more click, and a steady electrical charge flowed into Kyrano's body. All at once, the brain wave and heart rate lines lurched into motion. They began showing a steady rhythm and Kyrano's eyes flew open. The high-powered charge surged throughout his nervous system, coming full circle to return to the point of contact...to the needle extending from the end of Braman's finger.

It shot back up into Braman and he gave an audible cry as his hand jerked away and his body stiffened. He stood motionless for several moments before crashing to the floor.

Brains' greatest invention, the machine who had proven he was quite nearly a man, would never move again.

11:14:36

"Ten minutes to destination," Brains said. "John, we'd, uh, better get down to the Lounge and get suited up."

John and Scott exchanged a look. Brains envied their bond, the bond of brothers, a bond that required no words to express their thoughts. He turned and entered the elevator.

"Hey, Brains?"

"Y-Yes, Scott?"

"You be careful too."

Brains smiled. His connection to the Tracys may not have been coursing through his veins as theirs, but he knew it existed, and he knew it was strong. "I-I will. Just keep her steady."

"F.A.B.," Scott replied before turning back to the console in front of him. "Well, this is it, Scott," he said as the elevator descended and he watched the three ships on his radar screen come to a full stop. "Time to kick some ass." He flipped open a channel to home. "Base from Thunderbird 3. Come in, Base."

11:17:47

Jeff heard the control panel near the Ward's main entrance signal an incoming transmission. He raced to it and opened the line. Scott's face appeared on screen. "Base here, go ahead, Scott."

"Father, we're nine minutes out from Danger Zone."

"Is everything in place?"

"Yes. Brains and John are suiting up now. Father..."

"What? What is it?"

"There are three unidentified ships hovering directly over where we need to be."

"To drop the UH-3 bombs."

"Must be."

"How're you gonna get past 'em?"

"I'll have to come in below them, closer than originally calculated. I only hope they're on some sort of prerecorded mission and not manned. Do the International Rescuees have the Invisi-Shields in place? Just in case we don't succeed?"

Jeff frowned. "Come to think of it, I haven't heard a peep from Ned. He was supposed to call us as soon as he got in contact with them."

Penelope came to stand next to Jeff. She placed one hand on his arm and said, "Do you think he's all right?"

"I don't know, Penny. Let's get up to the Lounge and find out what's going on. Scott..."

"Yes, Father."

"Whatever you do, however you have to play this out..."

"Don't worry, Dad. We've come too far to fail now."

"Just be careful. I--I love you, son."

Scott just stared at him. How long had it been since he'd heard those words from his father? Finally he whispered, "I love you too, Dad. Thunderbird 3 out."

Jeff swallowed hard as Penny squeezed his arm reassuringly.

"Gordon, you stay here and help Dr. Gray and your grandmother."

"No, Dad, if something's wrong, I need to be with you!"

"If something's wrong, you may be everyone's last line of defense. Arm yourself to the teeth and secure the ward as soon as we're outside."

Gordon looked into his father's eyes and nodded. "I'll keep them safe. And...I love you too, Dad."

Jeff smiled and grasped Penny's hand before turning and heading out the door. No matter what happened, he'd never been more proud of his five sons than he was this day. And he knew that somewhere, Lucille was just as proud as he. He could've sworn as they made their way through the hall toward the elevator that he heard her whisper, _You did well, Jeff. You did well._

11:20:16

"Decreasing altitude," Scott said into the microphone. "You fellas ready down there?"

"Ready as we'll ever be, I suppose."

"John, you're not helping here."

"Sorry."

"Brains, how's the equipment?"

"Functioning at one hundred percent, Scott."

"Scott, what're those ships up to?"

"They've lined up just above the ionosphere. They're ready to drop 'em."

"How are you gonna get past 'em?"

"We're goin' in low, John, midway to the mesosphere. We should have all the counter agent released by the time they begin to let loose."

"_Should have_ is not giving me a lot of confidence. Don't forget I'll be swingin' in the breeze down there."

"Don't worry. A quick vertical drop'll shoot you right up into the fuselage. Brains has good reflexes. He'll catch you."

Brains chuckled as John replied, "Funny, Scott. _Ve-ry_ funny."

11:24:32

Tin-Tin sat on her father's bed, talking to him softly, explaining what had just happened. Gordon and Dr. Gray lifted Braman and carried him to the last empty bed on the far side of the room. Ruth stripped Tin-Tin's former bed of its sheets and replaced them with fresh ones. Then Gordon and Dr. Gray moved into the operating room, where they hoisted Megan onto a hover stretcher and brought her out into the ward proper.

Ruth helped them get her onto the bed. Beyond Kyrano and Tin-Tin, Virgil began to stir. Moments later, Alan's head moved. Ruth rushed to stand between them. "Virgil? Alan? Doctor, should they be awake?"

"It probably wouldn't hurt. They could use a good checkup, and it's better if they're conscious so I can ask questions."

Tin-Tin's attention was drawn away from her father. For the first time, she saw Alan's hair, his neck and the bandages on his now-bare arms. And she gasped.

"Go to him, my daughter," Kyrano said quietly. "He needs you now."

"No, Father, I won't leave your side," she replied.

"Tin-Tin, somehow, in some way, I was allowed to come back to you. You need not fear for me. Your love for him is strong, my child. Go to him. I will still be here."

Tin-Tin smiled and kissed her father on the cheek before rising to her feet. She walked to Alan's side as Ruth stepped closer to Virgil. Each of the women reached down and grasped the hand of the man in the bed beneath them.

Virgil's eyes fluttered open. It took a few seconds for them to focus, but when they did, he smiled. "Grandma."

"Hi, Virgil. Welcome back."

Alan smiled as he felt two soft, small hands raise his hand to a pair of even softer lips. When those lips kissed his knuckles, he opened his eyes. "Tin-Tin," he whispered. "Tin-Tin, you're safe."

"Yes," she replied, tears stinging her eyes as she took in his general state of being. "Yes, I am. And so are you."

Dr. Gray had just finished making Megan as comfortable as possible. He turned and watched those before him, noting how thick the air seemed to be with emotion...with love. "You are the most remarkable people I have ever met," he said softly. "Ever."

11:29:11

"I don't understand, Jeff. Where could he be?"

"I don't know, Penny, but I don't like this. Not one bit."

"Last time you said that, the Hood showed up."

He looked her right in the eye. "I know."

"We should split up. I'll take the lift down and start from the laboratory."

"No, Penny. We're not splitting up. We have to stay together. If the Hood _did_ get loose, we don't stand a chance on our own."

Penny smiled and reached out, cupping Jeff's cheek with her hand. "Don't you worry about me, Jeff Tracy. I've got a big gun," she said, lifting an automatic rifle into the air with her other hand.

He chuckled as she turned to go, but grabbed her hand just as it left his face. "Penny..." He pulled her into his body and their lips met. Her gun dropped heavily to the floor as she wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. When at last they parted, he looked into her eyes and whispered, "I love you, Penelope."

She smiled and choked back a sob. "I know you do, Jeff. I love you, too."

11:31:22

"All right, get ready, I'm moving into position."

"No movement from the, uh, ships?"

"No, Brains, nothing yet. I don't think they're manned, they must be running on autopilot as I suspected. Is John ready?"

"Ready to go. Just tell us when."

"Right. Moving into vertical position now."

Scott kept one eye on the radar screen as he brought the great rocket's nose around until it was pointing straight up toward the stars. "Okay, Brains. Open her up."

"F.A.B."

Brains gave the harness around John's body one last tug, and then did the same to his own. He smiled at John through the visors of their space suit helmets. "I won't let you fall."

John winked and smiled. "You never have, Brains. You never have. Let's get this over with."

Brains nodded and popped the rectangular square of floor out of the way, revealing the long, dark entry tunnel below. He slid the piece of floor to the side and said, "E-Extending diffuser."

A large titanium ring, which had been clamped to the underside of Thunderbird 3's tail, released and the unit dropped to ten feet below the rocket's body. "O-Okay, John. You need to get down there before I turn on the net."

John grinned, giving him the thumbs-up. "Anchors aweigh!" He stepped out over the opening and the cables attached to his harness grew taut. Brains started the winch, and slowly but surely, John moved downward. When he reached a point just inches below the ring, he said, "Okay, stop!"

Brains halted the winch. "Can you get a-around to the side o-of the ring now?"

"Yep, think so. Just a coupla swings oughtta do it."

Brains watched via monitor as John began to swing back and forth until at last his legs vaulted over the ring and his hands grabbed hold of it. "How's this?"

"Perfect. A-All right, now. I'm firing up the, uh, net."

"Have at it."

Brains pressed a button and a grid of blue lines criss-crossing the ring in a tight mesh came to life. John could hear them humming, and said, "Okay, seems to be working."

"Right. Scott, we're ready to, uh, drop counter agent."

"Go ahead. Everything's green up here."

Brains pressed another button and portions of the tube surrounding the hole in the Lounge floor slid back, leaving a half-inch wide gap all the way around. Another button pressed shot small spikes into the pouches lining the tube, and powder began to pour out.

"Coming your way!" Brains said.

John began to swing slowly left and right. The powder passed through the entry tunnel and hit the diffuser, making it hum even louder. He then stopped that motion and moved forward and backward, swinging the ring the other way in order to widen the range. "Okay, Scott. Point A's taken care of. Let's hit Point B."

"F.A.B. Hang on."

"You don't need to tell _me_ twice."

Half the rocket's retros fired and, along with its flywheel, pulled it sideways. It barely tipped at all as Scott kept it as upright as possible with the pitch and yaw jets. Within two minutes, Thunderbird 3 was in place over its second target. The powder continued releasing and again, John swung the titanium ring around this way and that. Then they moved on to the final area.

"Nearly through, John."

"Yeah, Scott. And boy, am I glad. I'm all for space walks, but usually all you can see are stars. It's a little creepy being able to see the Earth like this."

Scott smiled and checked the three ships' locations once again. They still weren't moving. It looked like they were actually going to pull this off.

11:40:25

Penny had torn herself from Jeff's arms, retrieved her weapon and left in the elevator. He'd finally told her. He'd finally said it. She smiled as she touched a hand to her lips. "You won't regret it, Jeff Tracy. It's a whole new beginning for us now. For _all_ of us." Then she raised her automatic weapon and turned off the safety. Her face hardened. "As soon as we get rid of the Hood, that is."

11:41:01

Jeff pushed his emotions to the side. As much as he wanted to run after Penny and not leave her alone right now, he knew she'd been right. They _had_ to split up, to more effectively locate Ned and...if he had escaped...the Hood. He was just about to walk out onto the balcony to see if either of them was outside when a low, gravelly laugh froze him in mid-stride.

He turned around, and his worst fears were realized. There stood none other than the Hood. And right next to him was Ned Cook. His face was blank, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Jeff took a few steps into the room, looking from Ned back to the personification of evil next to him. The Hood raised his hand and took aim with a large laser pistol. Suddenly, Jeff was very glad he'd told Penny he loved her.

For he doubted he'd get the chance again.

11:42:59

Just as the last of the UH-3 counter agent filtered down through the diffuser, Scott leapt to his feet. "The ships," he said. "One of 'em's beginning to move. Brains! Brains, get John up now! _Now_!"

Brains frantically started the winch and turned the diffuser off just as a gleaming silver triangle streaked by. Its wake caused John and the ring to spin around wildly. "Aaaaaaaaa!" John cried.

"Shit! It's coming back! Hang on down there!" Scott strapped himself into the pilot's chair and fired the retros full-blast. Thunderbird 3 moved down, narrowly avoiding a collision. "Brains, is he up? I've gotta fire the chemical rockets!"

"No, Scott, no! He's tangled in the ring straps! Don't fire rockets!"

"Brains, it's coming at us again!"

"Damn!" The winch groaned in its futile struggle to pull John back up. Brains grabbed a small hand-held torch, released his own winch and jumped into the tunnel, falling rapidly until he caught himself on the titanium ring. Wrapping his legs around John's torso, he reached up and fought to burn through the twisted cables emerging from the harness. "Hold on to me!"

"Yeah..." John gasped, clinging to the engineer's smaller frame.

Two of John's cables were now free, leaving just one more to go. When Brains was about halfway through it, Scott fired the pitch jet and Thunderbird 3's nose swung downward as the attacking ship streaked by again. The torch flew from Brains' hands.

"No!" he cried.

"Go on. Get back up there, Brains," John said, their helmet visors touching.

"Not without you," Brains replied. "Help me jerk it free!"

John's face took on a look of steely determination as he reached up with one hand. Placing it on the half-severed cable just below Brains' hand, he said, "1...2...3...tug!" They yanked on the cable, but it didn't give.

"Again!" Brains cried. John counted down and they pulled again as they pirouetted beneath the careening ship.

"John! Brains! I've gotta fire chemical rockets! I can't stay outta this thing's way forever!"

"No, Scott, no!" Brains cried.

But before Scott could even reply, the ship came at them one last time. He blasted the retros and the giant rocket moved sideways.

"Jesus, Brains, look _out_!" John hollered, his eyes widening in horror. He wrapped himself around the engineer and braced for what was coming.

The triangular ship, less than 1/3the size of Thunderbird 3, crashed into one of the larger craft's three nacelles. Brains and John whipped violently, smashing against the bottom of the rocket as Thunderbird 3 spun end over end, losing height as it fell towards Earth.

Suddenly the last cable holding John to the ship snapped, and his full weight hauled him and Brains down through the ring. They both cried out, clinging desperately to each other as the ship tossed wildly in the air. Flames spewed from the particle gun inside the damaged fin as the rocket apparatus fell away.

Scott heard their cries and fought to bring Thunderbird 3 back under control as his safety straps held him to his chair. All he could do was get her nose pointed straight downward. "Brains! John!" he yelled. "Answer me!"

His only reply was grunts and groans and shrieks of pain. "Are you in the Lounge?" he cried. "_Are you in the Lounge_?"

Brains moved one hand that had been clinging to John's space suit and strained to reach the pad on his other sleeve. The force of Thunderbird 3's nosedive left him and John twisting and turning behind the rocket like a sick rendition of a sign advertisement being pulled along behind an old bi-plane. At last his finger reached the pad and he pressed a button. Slowly the winch began to haul them up.

The fire spread forward, licking the bottom of the silver ring that housed Thunderbird 3's retro rockets. There was a small explosion, and suddenly the retros fired, jarring the ship as it tried to slow. Brains and John found themselves hurtling toward the end of the fuselage and yelled in unison, bracing themselves for what would surely be a fatal impact.

But to their shock, they cleared the small rectangular opening and John catapulted from Brains' grasp, hurtling through the entry tunnel and slamming into the ceiling of the Lounge, coming to rest against the elevator door. He watched as Brains, now tangled in his own cables, made it as far as the hatch itself. "Brains!" The engineer crawled forward as John pulled himself to the upside-down settee.

Scott's frantic voice rang in their ears. "John! Brains! Get in now! I have to detach escape pod!" John's vision grew fuzzy. "No...shit..." he gasped, struggling to clear his mind. His helmet visor had cracked, and blood trickled down from his forehead into his eye. He kept blinking, trying to see if Brains was inside, if he'd make it in time.

The ship jerked again as the retros misfired. They heard Scott yell, "Shit!" as the missing piece of floor fell towards Brains.

"Brains, look out!" John cried as he and the settee crashed to the floor.

Brains grabbed the edge of the slab just as it started to careen away again. He fought with it for a few seconds before turning on the magnetic seal, which pulled it securely into place. "Scott!" he cried. "Detach now! Detach _now_!"

Scott jabbed a red button located to the far right of the control panel. There was a soft hiss as the nose detached from the rest of the fuselage just above the retro rocket ring. A large parachute erupted from the nose, and whipped it around so it was upright again. Brains and John fell to the floor with a thud, the engineer on his back and John facedown on top of him.

John lifted his head weakly and smiled at his friend. "Well," he whispered, "you _did_ let me fall. But at least you caught me."

"Brains! John! You okay? I'm coming down!"

"O-Okay, S-Scott," Brains ground out through clenched teeth.

Scott soon appeared in the elevator shaft. He crossed to them and pulled John off Brains. "You two had me worried," he said as he removed John's helmet.

"We had _us_ worried," John replied.

"We did it," Scott murmured as Brains pulled himself into a sitting position and took off his helmet. "We actually did it. And with five minutes to spare."

"Yeah. I-I just hope those I-Invisi-Shields do their job."

11:55:51

Ned suddenly felt something wash over him. Something pure, something that felt completely different from what had control of him. He heard a voice.

_Rise. Rise to consciousness. He cannot hold you. Do not let him. Fight it, Ned. Fight it._

Ned blinked his eyes. When at last they began to focus, he saw Jeff standing across the room near the wall of glass. His eyes were wide and his mouth hung open slightly. Then Ned turned his head. He saw a horrible man standing next to him, and fear rose through him like bile. For in his hand, he held a gun. And that gun was pointed directly at Jeff.

There was a noise behind them and Ned turned his head further to see what was causing it. He watched as Lady Penelope entered the room, then stopped short at what she saw. She raised her rifle as Ned looked down at the Hood's hands. His finger tightened on his gun's trigger ever-so-slightly, and as much of Ned's senses as had returned told him Jeff Tracy was about to die.

Ned lunged for the Hood just as he fired his weapon. "Noooo!" Jeff cried.

Ned grabbed the Hood's collar, putting his body between the laser pistol and Jeff, who had started across the room. The Hood cried out and fired again as he and Ned tumbled to the floor. The blast ripped through Ned's stomach, spraying blood everywhere as he grunted from the force of impact.

"You _bastard_!" Penny screamed as he raised his gun toward Jeff and prepared to fire once more. She lowered her rifle, took aim at the Hood's head and fired.

The Hood was no more.

Jeff cried out as he reached Ned's side, sinking to his knees in a pool of blood. He rolled the man over, cradling him in his arms as he sputtered, blood running out of his mouth. He opened his eyes one last time and looked into Jeff's face.

"Ned...oh, God, you _idiot_, why? _Why_?"

Ned tried to force a smile, but couldn't quite make it. He took two labored breaths and gasped, "Never...give up...Jeff T-T-Tracy..."

Ned Cook died in his arms.

He bowed his head over the reporter, their strongest ally and supporter, a man he'd come to know and trust with his life. A man who had just _saved_ his life. Today...it had been too much. Just too much uncertainty and fear, too much anguish and pain; and now this. Another dead friend. At last, Jeff let the tears begin to flow.

Penny looked up toward the television screen just to the side of Jeff's desk, where WNN had been tuned in the entire time. She watched as pictures from a helijet camera accompanied Phil Epstein's voice.

_"Ladies and Gentlemen, what you are seeing is a live shot from the skies over Southern California. I don't know how they did it, but somehow International Rescue has diffused nearly every small bomb that's falling through the sky. They're reaching the skies above Los Angeles and look, just look! They're bouncing off something that can only be an invisible force field of some sort! Those that are still live are exploding, but they're causing no damage! I can't believe it! They did it! International Rescue has saved millions of people. On behalf of those in Southern California and people the world round, I say thank you. They did it, Ladies and Gentlemen. They did it!"_

Lady Penelope's rifle clattered to the floor as she looked back to where Jeff held Ned's lifeless body. "Yes, they did it" she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "But at what price?"

11:59:58

11:59:59

12:00:00


End file.
